


Le Blanc

by shewritesall



Series: Dramione Full Stories [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Auror Draco Malfoy, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Moulin Rouge!, courtesan - Freeform, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewritesall/pseuds/shewritesall
Summary: Draco Malfoy could never have guessed what he'd get himself into when he finally agreed to join Blaise and visit Le Blanc, the most popular nightclub in all of Great Britain.  The Golden Girl—or Hermione, as he soon knows her as—is more captivating than he ever imagined.  It's unfortunate Draco's father seems determined to keep Draco away from Le Blanc while also forcing him to lead a similar lifestyle.A Moulin Rouge inspired work. Weekly updates.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Series: Dramione Full Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711891
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned: this book deals with prostitution and abuse. There are some scenes that imply and mention rape. At no point does the book explicit mention or describe rape, but it is referenced. Younger readers and those who may be sensitive to such topics should read at their own discretion.

Draco didn't understand the draw. He'd been to plenty of nightclubs before so he knew what they were like, but he didn't understand why out of all the nightclubs in wizarding and muggle England, Blaise felt the need to drag him to his father's. _Le Blanc_ was the most popular nightclub in all of wizarding England and the shows sold out months in advance, but Draco himself had never felt compelled to visit even if he did get free admission and drinks. Blaise, however, seemed to think that by not taking advantage of such things was a crime and had made it his mission to force Draco to the nightclub.

"Don't pretend you aren't excited," Blaise said, elbowing him as they slipped past the bouncer with a nod. Lestrange ignored them both, much to Draco's delight. The last thing he wanted was to cause a stir by visiting his own nightclub.

"I'm not pretending," Draco bit back. Blaise rolled his eyes and made a beeline for the bar. The bartender—of course—recognised Blaise and started making a drink for him as soon as they'd made eye contact. Draco, on the other hand, had to give the girl his order himself and resist the urge to make sarcastic remarks at her small talk. It was different when the nightclub was one of his father's. Things just seemed less enticing.

"Show's on in five, boys," the bartender told them with a flirty smile and a wink. Blaise grinned back at her but Draco ignored her in favour of his drink. If Blaise was really going to make him sit through an entire burlesque show designed by Lucius Malfoy, Draco was going to need at least three more drinks before it started.

"You on tonight, Chang?" Blaise asked. The bartender, who was apparently named Chang, shook her head and reached to refill Draco's whiskey already.

"Bar won't serve itself, baby," Chang replied. Blaise chuckled and turned his attention to the stage while Draco grabbed his drink back from Chang. The girl seemed nice enough and if this had been any other club, he might have found himself flirting back. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but wonder when his father would appear behind him and ask what he was doing there.

Fortunately, Lucius didn't appear at the bar. He didn't even appear beside him and Blaise when they found a lucky spot where they could see the stage perfectly. When Blaise explained the theme behind tonight's show, Draco definitely expected his father to cut in and correct Blaise on his pronunciation of _chatoyant_. After a tense minute, Draco realised his father was nowhere nearby and he and Blaise could enjoy themselves freely. It was at that moment that the lights dimmed, a spotlight shone on the stage, and the room erupted with shouts. The music, in an attempt to drown out the excited cheering, pounded in Draco's skull and rattled his thoughts. Besides him, Blaise whooped and hollered like he was one with the crowd.

"Is it always this loud?" Draco shouted over the music. Blaise nodded with a grin but turned his attention back to the stage when the curtains parted and a flurry of girls hurried out.

Draco couldn't look away as bright colours flashed and skirts flipped up just a little too high. Sparks shot up from the side of the stage, but the girls seemed unworried as they blew the audience kisses and flicked their skirts to the side. The skirts all seemed to point back to the parted curtains and Draco tore his eyes away from pale thighs to see one last girl prancing to the front of the stage. The other girls that were lined up behind her swished their skirts rapidly as this new girl strutted along the stage edge. Like the others, she was dressed in feathery skirts and a top that hung very low on her collar. Unlike the other dresses, however, hers was only one colour: a brilliant gold that Draco had no doubt was enhanced with magic to shine even more.

"That's the Golden Girl," Blaise told him, yelling to be heard. Draco didn't bother looking at his friend. It was at that moment the Golden Girl flipped her skirt up over her head. The action only lasted for a second, but it was just long enough to give Draco a perfect view of her bare pussy. He clearly wasn't the only one who saw, because the shouts got louder and the Golden Girl winked at the audience.

The first show of the night was a blur to Draco. Between the flashing colours, the pounding of the music in his head, and the captivating way the Golden Girl moved, he didn't realise the show had ended until he blinked and realised his Golden Girl was gone. Around him, the audience screamed their appreciation and his father attempted—albeit half-assed—to quiet them down. Draco didn't hear a word his father said in parting with his audience as he grabbed Blaise's shirt cuff and dragged him behind the stage.

The bodyguards let them by without question—of course, his father owned the nightclub after all—and Draco immediately began his search for the Golden Girl. If Blaise knew what he was doing, he kept quiet about it. Overall, the git talked even more than usual as they passed dozens of scantily clad girls bustling around. After hearing Blaise ask the seventh girl how she was doing, Draco dropped his sleeve and left him to continue his search alone.

He instantly had more success than when he'd been pulling Blaise around behind him. As he poked his head into a dressing room, he found the Golden Girl unpinning her hair from its intricate updo. Surprised by his own success, he paused in the doorway just to stare at her. She was still in that ridiculously shiny gold dress, but it seemed to fit her better with the warm glow of the vanity lights instead of the harsh spotlight.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked, not looking up at him. Draco frowned, confused as to what she meant. "Is it Parvati aga—"

When she finally looked up at Draco, she stopped midsentence. Their eyes locked and Draco froze as images of her skirt flying up past her waist raced through his mind.

"I'm sorry," she said, drawing his mind back to the present. "I thought you were—"

"My father?" Draco cut in. The Golden Girl paused, clearly a little confused. Draco refused to turn red as he clarified, "I'm Draco Malfoy, my father owns the nightclub."

"Oh."

The Golden Girl turned red now. The room fell into silence before she said something softly. It took Draco a full five seconds to realise she'd told him her name as well and he felt thoroughly awkward as he had to ask her to repeat what she'd said.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. She reached behind her head again and continued taking pins from her hair, letting Draco watch as she worked.

As her hair was released curl by curl, Draco was certain he was looking at a veela. There was no other explanation for why Draco felt so drawn to this burlesque dancer he'd only just met. He wasn't even sure he could say they'd met, either. He hardly knew her name, let alone anything about her of substance. All he knew was she danced at his father's nightclub and looked stunning in gold. No wonder they called her the Golden Girl.

"How long have you danced for my father?" Draco asked. Hermione startled, dropping one of her hairpins and looking back up at him. He felt bad for scaring her as she clearly thought he'd left, but he was too captivated by the way her curly hair fell against her back.

"About three years," Hermione answered. She reached for the dropped hairpin and set it in a jar on the vanity. He could see her now keeping an eye on him through the mirror and wondered if she was waiting for someone else. The idea of another man coming and stealing her heart sent a wave of irritation through him.

"It was nice to meet you, Hermione," Draco said, sensing her discomfort at his presence. He didn't want to make her feel like she had to be okay with him around, but forcing himself to leave her dressing room was harder than he'd anticipated. Before he could convince himself to stay longer and make her feel even more uncomfortable, he disappeared through the doorway and shut the door behind himself.

He had barely taken two steps away before he was assaulted by Blaise with a girl on each arm. The drunken git was smiling widely and slurring his words so bad Draco could hardly understand him.

"Where'd you get off to, mate?" Blaise said. At least, Draco thought that's what he'd said. Blaise was saying something else and gesturing wildly at all the girls still bustling around backstage.

"We should get you home," Draco told him, waving the girls off Blaise's arms. At their leave, Blaise tipped forward and jutted out his lower lip. Draco waved his wand to help steady Blaise on his feet.

Blaise continued to mutter and cheer occasionally on the walk out of the nightclub. Swaying on his feet, he was always either a few steps ahead or behind Draco. When they finally reached the apparation line, Draco held onto Blaise's arm tightly and apparated them both back to the Zabini estate. He'd visit the club again later, but first, he needed to get Blaise into a bed to sleep off all the alcohol he'd ingested.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione had found it hard to sleep that night. After her first performance of the new routine, Hermione had sought a place to hide until Mr. Malfoy came to tell her all she'd messed up. When she'd first spotted the pale hair in the doorway, she'd automatically thought the person to be her boss. Seeing a much younger, but very similar, figure standing in the doorway had surprised her, but not entirely upset her. Of course, she'd known Mr. Malfoy had a son, but actually seeing him standing in front of her had been a bit of a shock. She'd hardly been able to keep from turning bright red when she realised it wasn't actually Mr. Malfoy she'd spoken to. When he'd introduced himself so nicely, she couldn't stop herself from responding with her own name, a stupid thing she knew Mr. Malfoy would hit her for if he found out. He'd been so nice though; much nicer than his father ever was. Even if he hadn't stuck around for very long and had likely left to go fuck one of the others, she couldn't stop thinking about the unexpected visit. He'd even said it was nice to meet her before she left. All she'd been able to respond with was a quiet hum, too shocked and stupid to do anything else.

Into the next day, Hermione found herself wondering about Draco Malfoy. He was obviously his father's son when it came to his looks—the two looked nearly identical—but he acted like he'd been raised by an angel. Hermione had never met or even seen the Missus Malfoy, but if she'd been able to raise a boy so identical to her husband yet so kind, the woman had to be a saint.

"Disasterous!"

Hermione jumped at the loud sound and was suddenly reminded of where she was. Mr. Malfoy had required all of the dancers to practice the new routine late that afternoon. They'd already run through the entire set once, but he still didn't seem satisfied and was ordering each girl to solo her part for the intro while he sat at the front table.

"Your skirt must be higher," Mr. Malfoy demanded. Parvati nodded hastily and started from the top. Her and Padma, the Twins, usually had duets that mirrored each other no matter what the theme of the night was. Many of _Le Blanc_ 's patrons had a thing for the twins and while Hermione found it disgusting, Mr. Malfoy liked to milk it for all it was worth. For Parvati, practicing without Padma mirroring her every move felt like no matter what she did, every step was wrong. Clearly Mr. Malfoy seemed to feel the same way because he ordered Padma to join in and the two started from the beginning yet again.

"I think he gets off on it," Cho murmured. Hermione sent her a look, but Mr. Malfoy was too engrossed—emphasis on gross—by the Twins' movement.

"Twenty says he's in their room after this," Lavender chimed in. Hermione rolled her eyes as Cho nodded in agreement. None of them had actual cash to trade, but it was a familiar thing from before their days at _Le Blanc_. Almost all the girls had been heard gambling money they didn't have at some point, but Hermione tended not to join in. There was no point in offering up money she didn't have in hopes of gaining money she would never actually get.

"That will do," Mr. Malfoy said. A flick of his wand shut the music off and both Padma and Parvati dropped their skirts. He waved them off the stage and they hurried to escape his judgemental look. As they disappeared behind the stage curtains, Mr. Malfoy glanced over the remainder of the girls. 

Behind her, Hannah took a shy step back. Hermione reached back and squeezed Hannah's hand comfortingly. The young girl was the newest addition to the team and was not yet used to the demands Mr. Malfoy some times gave to them. It was obvious the girl still felt uncomfortable when he so much as looked at her. Hermione knew Mr. Malfoy prided himself in instilling fear in all of his dancers, but she wasn't afraid of getting hit for protecting the girls every now and then. As the lead dancer, she needed the others to at least like her. Having them trust her was just an added bonus.

"You're dismissed," Mr. Malfoy said. Behind her, Hermione heard dozens of bare feet racing to disappear. Before Hermione could follow after them, Mr. Malfoy called out for her. "Granger, a word."

Hermione turned back to face him as the rest of the girls retreated. She knew a couple of them would likely stay just out of sight in order to try and hear what Mr. Malfoy wanted to talk to her about, but she didn't particularly care. It was unlikely he'd say something he hadn't already said to her and given as it was a Friday afternoon, she could easily guess what he was going to say.

"Yes, sir?" she said, standing in front of him at the bottom of the stage. Mr. Malfoy stood from his chair to tower over her, but the intimidation technique had long since failed on her.

"A close friend of mine will be visiting this evening," Mr. Malfoy told her. He eyed her carefully, but Hermione was staring up at him blankly. "As he is so dear to me, I expect you to be nothing but perfect for him or know the consequences."

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied. What else was she to do? A friend of Mr. Malfoy meant nothing but a series of immobilisation charms and filthy sex dreams. He sure did know how to pick friends.

"I know you like to be a prude," Mr. Malfoy sneered at her, and Hermione's face hardened. It was hard to be a prude when every weekend she was thrust onto the penis of a new man, but she knew better than to say such a thing. "No matter how thrilling or frightening something may be, I expect you to be nothing but docile and compliant. Any refusal will be heard by me and I will be forced to deal with you as deemed fit."

"Of course, sir," Hermione repeated, a little more bite to her words this time. Mr. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her but Hermione didn't flinch.

"Get out of my sight, filth," he spat. Hermione glared at him before turning abruptly and marching behind the curtain stage. She ignored the way two girls pretended not to have been eavesdropping and headed straight for her dressing room. Slamming the door behind her, Hermione dropped in front of her vanity and stared at herself.

"When did this become my life?" she murmured. Make-up brushes covered the vanity and glittering hairpins were tucked away in a jar. In the mirror, she could see her iconic gold dress hanging behind her and glared at it. She'd hated that stupid dress from the moment it had appeared in her dressing room. The top was cut way too low and the skirt itself was cut so short that even walking made the front hem reveal more of her thigh than necessary. The back hem hung at her knees, but Hermione knew the high-low effect was only a style thing and not at all to keep her buttocks from showing. Merlin, she lifted her skirt so many times in the first dance alone, she always wondered when Mr. Malfoy would send her on stage completely naked. 

With a burst of anger, Hermione sent everything on the vanity flying. She hadn't needed to lift a finger as the magic that had been compressed for so long burst from her.

She cursed Mr. Malfoy for taking her wand, but that had never stopped her from using magic anyway. It was quicker at doing her hair and better at making her dress shine than Flint's pathetic glow charm. Her wand only allowed her to perform bigger spells. Hermione was skilled enough in magic to do almost anything she needed without her wand. However, that didn't mean she couldn't curse Mr. Malfoy and his family for locking away the one possession she actually cared about. One day, she'd get out and she'd get her wand back, but for right now, she'd have to resort to sending violent, wandless magic at any nearby object that dared look at her. One day.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco wasn't sure why Severus's arrival was such a big deal. Sure, it had been a year or so since he'd last seen his godfather, but surely a full feast and redecorating of the Manor was overkill. Blaise had agreed with him, of course, but his mother had ignored him and continued hanging new portraits around the sitting room. His father had announced he and Severus had evening plans and a feast was not necessary, but his mother had insisted anyway. Draco had left the Manor for Blaise's when the argument got heated and he no longer cared to listen.

"What's old Snape up to these days anyway?" Blaise asked, lying upside down on a sofa. Draco looked at him, unamused, from the chair he was sitting on. Blaise twisted on the sofa, his knees nearly hitting him in the face when he got stuck.

"He's potions master at a lab in France," Draco answered. Blaise grunted, trying to roll out of the awkward position he'd gotten himself stuck in. Draco raised an eyebrow at him as Blaise tried to toss his legs back over the top of the sofa in an attempt to untangle himself. He only succeeded at kneeing himself in the face and Draco couldn't help the grin that formed as Blaise groaned in pain.

"Come on, man," Blaise groaned, glaring at Draco as best he could. "Give a git a hand, will ya?"

Draco just chuckled and stayed seated. Blaise tried several more times before he was actually successful in untangling himself from the sofa. When he was finally seated on it like it was supposed to be sat in, Draco found the situation much less entertaining.

"How often have you visited _Le Blanc_?" Draco asked, recalling how Blaise had clearly known the bartender and how to sneak backstage. _Le Blanc_ was supposed to be a more sophisticated nightclub as there weren't hundreds of people grinding on themselves and getting drunk off their arses.

"A couple of times," Blaise said flippantly. Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise who very pointedly avoided looking at him. "Your father pretty much lets me do whatever I want."

Draco scoffed. Perhaps Lestrange had let him in without a second glance, but Blaise definitely did not get to do whatever he wanted. Even Draco didn't get to do whatever he wanted around his father.

"How many times?" Draco asked. Blaise paused and Draco rolled his eyes at how focused Blaise had become trying to count the number of times he'd gone to the nightclub.

"At least a dozen," Blaise finally said. He hadn't kept track of all the times he'd gone, but this didn't surprise Draco. Instead, he asked Blaise if he wanted to add to the number and Blaise smirked. "Like what you saw?"

"Something like that."

* * *

When Severus did arrive at the Manor, it took ten minutes to move from the Floo to the dining hall. Draco watched as his mother hugged Severus and asked after his work in France. Severus was then passed off to Draco's father and they spent several minutes catching up before it was Draco's turn to greet his godfather. It wasn't as awkward as Draco had anticipated, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable when his mother encouraged him to hug the man. It was his father who saved him, reminding his mother that men didn't hug, they shook hands. After that, things felt less awkward.

"This food looks divine, Narcissa," Severus said as they sat at the table. "It reminds me of the feasts I had while working at Hogwarts."

"You flatter me," Mrs. Malfoy replied. Draco busied himself with his food as his mother and Severus talked about Hogwarts and reminisced about their time there. Occasionally, Draco heard his father chime in, but he wasn't paying too much attention. When his name was mentioned, though, he looked up. His mother was nodding at Severus as she said, "He always said the meals at Durmstrang were good, but I'm sure they were nothing compared to Hogwarts."

"Durmstrang was the best decision for our son, Narcissa," his father cut in. Draco returned his attention to his food, knowing they wouldn't ask for his opinion. Draco had enjoyed his time far from the Manor at Durmstrang. It had been strange, parting ways with his friends for the school year, but they stayed close and now Draco hardly talked to those he went to school with. Four years later and he kept in contact with only a distant cousin he'd discovered while attending.

"It would have been a pleasure to teach your son potions at Hogwarts with his skill," Severus said, glancing at Draco. Draco could almost swear he saw the ghost of a smile. "But I'm positive Durmstrang was the best choice seeing how he turned out."

There was a moment of silence as they all finished their plates before Mrs. Malfoy procured the desserts. Not having anticipated so many options, Draco had to take only slivers of the various pies in an attempt not to overstuff himself. By the time he had to set aside his plate, both of his parents and Severus had long since given up.

"I hear you and Lucius have evening plans," Mrs. Malfoy said, directing the comment at Severus. Both men nodded and Draco rolled his eyes. They were probably just going to taste wine and talk about the economy for all Draco cared. When his mother suggested Draco go with them, though, all three of them refused.

"He'd be bored beyond his wits with us, I'm afraid," his father said. They both looked at each other, his father daring him to join them.

"I made plans with Blaise," Draco told her as his father assured his mother it wasn't necessary. Pleased Draco hadn't chosen to go with them, his father gave him a nod and stood from the table.

"Don't stay up, dear," he told his wife, kissing her cheek. He and Severus left the room to use the Floo while Draco stayed a moment longer to see if his mother wanted help clearing the table.

"Merlin, no," his mother said, waving him off. "I'll leave it for the elves. Go off with Blaise, darling."

Draco smiled at her but didn't wait around for her to find something to distract him with. Hurrying out of the house, Draco apparated from the front steps to just outside _Le Blanc_ where he had agreed to meet Blaise. To no surprise, Blaise was already waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Take your fucking time, why don't you?" Blaise said as soon as he saw Draco appear. Draco rolled his eyes and shoved Blaise in the direction of the nightclub.

Without a word, they slipped past Lestrange and found themselves at the bar. Instead of that Chang girl who'd been there the night before, a new girl dressed just as scantily as the dancers the night before appeared to serve them. This one knew Blaise's order just as well before flirtily asking for Draco's.

"Show starts in five, boys," the girl said as she handed both of them their drinks. Blaise slipped her a galleon and a wink before Draco pulled him away from the bar.

They returned to the same spot they'd watched from the night before just in time for the lights to dim and the same loud song to echo through their eardrums. The same line of girls came out, swishing their skirts and smiling at the audience with the same timing as before. However, when the Golden Girl—Hermione, he now knew her as—came out, it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Nothing about her had changed, but it was still captivating to watch her move. When her skirt came up over her head and revealed her pussy bare to the audience, Draco sucked in a breath.

Beside him, Blaise hooted through the whole show and seemed just as intrigued as the night before. His eyes darted across the stage as if he was memorising everything all at once. Draco, on the other hand, kept his eyes on Hermione the whole time. Whenever she was on the stage, it seemed like she was the main focus. When she wasn't the main event, she was nowhere to be seen.

When the finale finished, Draco slipped away from Blaise. His friend was too drunk and high on images of what had just happened on stage to notice and Draco had every intention of using that to his advantage. While the girls waved and blew kisses to their ever dedicated audience, Draco slipped through the crowd on his way backstage. By the time he was behind the curtains, the girls were hurrying past him and chatting loudly. Now that he knew where Hermione's dressing room was, he didn't have to awkwardly peer into the other rooms. Instead, he was able to head straight to her room and knock on the door.

He didn't hear a response, but that didn't stop him from twisting the knob and stepping inside. What he expected to see was her unpinning her hair at her vanity like the night before. He had not at all anticipated seeing her in a nearly see-through gown, lying strategically on her bed.

"Um, hello," he said, trying not to look at her breasts through the gown and ignoring the way the slit curved up past her hip to reveal part of her buttocks.

"Mr. Malfoy said to expect a dear friend of his," she said, her voice soft and sultry. It sent something coursing through Draco that he refused to acknowledge as he stood in front of her. "I didn't realise he meant his son."

Draco held his breath as she smoothly slipped off the bed and walked towards him. He tried not to swallow too loudly as she approached him. Clearly she had been waiting for someone else and he was not supposed to be there. Unfortunately for all parties involved, Draco was now curious as to who his father's "dear friend" was and why Hermione was supposed to be expecting him.

"I don't—he didn't—" Draco wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say, but Hermione seemed to understand because she immediately took a step back and tried to cover herself more with the sheer robe. Draco could still make out the dark green lingerie she was wearing, but he was determined to look no lower than her chin.

"Your father didn't send you," Hermione deduced. Draco nodded dumbly. Her confusion immediately morphed into urgency as she hissed, "Then what are you doing here?"

"If you must know, I wanted to ask your favourite colour," Draco replied flippantly, "And I figured immediately after your show was the best time."

"Get out!" Hermione demanded, grabbing hold of his shoulders and twisting him to face the door. Draco almost tripped over his legs as she shoved him at the door, but he managed to slip away from her and turn back to face her.

"If you don't want to share, you could just say so," Draco teased. Hermione did not look like she appreciated the joke as she tried once more to force him from her dressing room.

"If you're in here when he arrives, your father will kill me," she told him. Draco frowned, recalling that his father was actually busy with Severus at the moment and whoever Hermione was supposed to be meeting could probably be bought off. Of course, his father was likely to notice a large sum of money leave his account, but as long as Draco kept the amount under 80,000 galleons, he could easily get away with it.

"Who are you supposed to be meeting that's more important than me?" Draco asked. Hermione fumed, but before she could respond, the door opened and Draco twisted around to see who had walked in.

Both men froze as they stared at each other and Draco heard Hermione inhale sharply. Draco had to blink twice before he realised he wasn't hallucinating and his godfather was really standing in front of him.

"Draco," Severus drawled. Draco blinked again just to be sure. "What are you doing at _Le Blanc_?"

"I could ask you the same," Draco retorted. They stared at each other for a second longer before Severus's attention was drawn away. Draco knew the exact moment his godfather's eyes landed on Hermione because he started suddenly.

"Granger," Severus sneered. Despite being utterly confused about what was going on and why Severus was at _Le Blanc_ when he was supposed to be doing something with his father, Draco still took a step to the right to better hide Hermione's mostly visible body from Severus.

"I think you have the wrong room," Draco told him. Severus's eyes narrowed at him but he slowly nodded.

"Yes, I do believe so," Severus agreed. A moment of awkward silence passed before Severus reached back for the door handle and disappeared with a short, "Good night, Draco."


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione could barely breathe. From the moment her door had opened to reveal Draco to when it closed after her old potions teacher, she was certain she'd held her breath. Watching Draco walk into her room and assuming he was the man she was supposed to meet had sent several confusing feelings through her. She was obviously not disgusted as Draco was around her age and not a creepy old man like usual, but she had been rather confused. Hearing him attempt to tell her he wasn't who she was expecting had been both disappointing and terrifying. She hadn't even had enough time to process it all before the door had opened again and suddenly Professor Snape, her potions teacher from Hogwarts, was talking with Draco. He'd left right when she realised Snape had been who Mr. Malfoy had sent her. She shuddered at the thought of having sex with an old professor, forgetting Draco was still in the room.

"What was Severus doing here?" Draco asked, turning back to face her. Hermione looked from the closed door to Draco.

"I think your father sent him to me," she answered. Her face felt warm under his stare and she frowned to herself.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione wanted to scoff, but she held herself back. Draco may have been nothing but polite to her so far, but who was to say he wouldn't punish her like his father did if she showed any sign of disobedience?

As politely as she could, Hermione said, "It's Friday night. Weekends are when business is best, so as an extra incentive, Mr. Malfoy sells me off to the highest bid."

Draco's face twisted into one of disgust and Hermione kept herself from smiling at the expression. She imagined it would probably be the same face a kid trying a lemon for the first time would make and the idea made her smile. Mr. Malfoy's son was clearly much less morbid than him.

"Like a brothel?" he asked. Hermione considered the idea before nodding her head slowly. Not all the girls were rented out, but the vast majority were. Mr. Malfoy had made it clear just how expensive each dancer was to bed for the night and Hermione hated knowing she was the most desired. Part of her wanted to scream that the patrons should have had enough stimulation for the evening after she'd flashed them her pussy seven times in a row.

"That may be the best way to describe it, yes," Hermione told him. Draco, once again, looked disgusted. "Not all the girls are sold, of course. Only the ones patrons find the most desirable."

"And I suppose that's you?" Draco said. He didn't sound mad at _her_ when he said it, but he did sound mad. Rather than try and read into it, Hermione nodded again.

"Friday, Saturday, and Sunday," she said. Draco hadn't been looking at her anyway, but the way he turned his face even further away upset her. If he was truly too disgusted with her to even look at her, he could very well leave her dressing room. "Your father won't be too happy you just disrupted his Friday sale."

"He'll never know," Draco said quickly. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as his eyes darted to her momentarily. "Severus won't tell him because he'd have to tell him I was here too. He'll never know."

As his head turned away from her again, Hermione snapped, "You could just leave if it's really that horrible to look at me."

At this, Draco did look at her. She refused to feel bad at the bit of guilt she saw in his face because he quickly looked away again.

"I'd be able to look at you if you were actually wearing something."

Hermione blinked in surprise, looking down at the sheer robe she had draped over her lingerie. She hadn't thought that was the problem. Usually, the men in her dressing room wanted her to wear less than she had on, not put on more. A bit hesitantly, Hermione stepped away from Draco to find something he might deem suitable to look at her in.

It took her an embarrassingly long amount of time to find something longer than any of her show dresses or something she had used during sex. Even then, the nightshirt barely covered her bum and she found herself tugging the hem lower in hopes it would satisfy Draco. It had been years since she'd actually needed the thing and it was shorter than she remembered, but now she was glad she'd kept it.

"Is that really all you have?" Draco asked as he eyed her. Hermione glared at him and resisted the urge to cross her arms as she knew the action would make the shirt ride up even higher on her thigh.

"I'm a prostitute, what did you expect?" she snapped. Draco frowned at her statement and pulled out his wand to transfigure the nightshirt in a simple gown. Hermione stared at it in awe, admiring the way the fabric actually went to her knees and covered her collar like a proper dress.

"Surely you know how to transfigure things," Draco said. Hermione was snapped out of her awe by annoyance. Sure, he'd made her a lovely white dress out of her old nightshirt, but that didn't give him the right to accuse her of not being able to perform simple magic herself.

"I do," she told him. She bitterly added on, "Your father locked all of our wands away until the moment our contracts end and we leave."

Draco looked a little stunned at the admission and honestly, it was a bit embarrassing. Hermione couldn't even keep her wand while she was forced to dance by a mad man. She was really at the mercy of anyone carrying a wand as her own wandless magic only went so far.

"That's ridiculous," Draco finally said. Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course, it was ridiculous. No witch would readily hand over her wand, but here Hermione had in hopes of earning enough money to attend healer training. Three years later and she was still trapped in an endless cycle of renewed contracts and lost wands. Three years was all it had taken before she'd finally given up on her dream and resigned herself to staying at _Le Blanc_ until she was eventually kicked out.

"When that happens," she told Draco, "I'll find a job somewhere in Diagon Alley selling trinkets of some sort. Merlin knows who will hire a prostitute with no money or place to live."

At some point, Hermione had moved back on to her bed. Rather than recline seductively like she usually did when her room had a man in it, she was sat Indian style on top of the cover with the skirt of her new dress covering her legs. Draco had pulled the chair from her vanity out so he could sit beside the bed without getting too close and Hermione appreciated the gesture. She would have been tense if he'd chosen to sit beside her on the bed.

"Why did you come to _Le Blanc_ anyway?" Draco asked, chin in his hand as he stared at her with interest.

"Money," Hermione answered honestly. Everyone knew the Malfoys had money and at the time, _Le Blanc_ was the only place hiring. She'd turned in her application and been accepted the next day. "It sounded like a dream at first: a place that offered free meals and free beds. I thought I could do training in the days and dance for work at night. I never thought I'd get trapped here."

"Does it pay well?"

"No," Hermione scoffed before Draco had really finished his sentence. Merlin, she couldn't remember the last time she'd even gotten a paycheck. While Mr. Malfoy paid for all her dresses, food, and anything else she needed, he never gave her real money to do with as she pleased. For the first few months, he'd given her fifty galleons as an allowance. Now, she had to make do with whatever she could snatch from the wallets of those who came to fuck her.

"Then why stay?" Draco asked. Hermione wanted to scream at him all the reasons she couldn't leave. Unfortunately, the door was thrown open before she could and Lavender and Cho were interrupting. At the sight of Draco sitting in Hermione's vanity chair and Hermione wearing a new dress, they both stopped.

"Um, this is Lavender and Cho," Hermione offered uselessly as they stared at Draco. Cho seemed more invested in Draco than Lavender, but Hermione didn't point out her staring. She was sure she'd stare too if she discovered Mr. Malfoy's son sitting in Cho's dressing room peacefully.

"I served you whiskey last night," Cho suddenly said. Recognition flooded her face as Draco nodded uncomfortably, but Cho looked content with herself.

"Is there a reason you're here?" Hermione said, drawing Lavender and Cho's attention back to her. It took the girls a moment to remember, but as soon as they did, they looked much less amused.

"Flint's grabbed Luna again," Cho told her. Hermione was on her feet and sprinting from her dressing room before Cho could even tell her where. Behind her, she vaguely heard Cho yell something after her, but Hermione knew where Flint would be if he was forcing himself on Luna and she was not ashamed of bursting into the man's room without announcement.

"Get off her!" Hermione growled when she saw Marcus Flint towering over Luna. The small girl was lying quietly on Flint's bed and didn't move when Hermione shoved the alleged bodyguard off of her.

Flint went tumbling to the ground, but that wasn't enough for Hermione. Even without a wand, she could levitate and move things from afar and the lamp on Flint's nightstand wasn't far. She didn't even have to think to bring the lamp crashing down over his head and the nightstand itself toppling onto his abdomen.

"Bitch," Flint groaned. His hand flopped around, searching for his wand, but Hermione had it snatched away before he could grab it. As soon as she grabbed the thing, a shock ripped through her body, forcing her to drop the wand. She hissed in both pain and annoyance. Flint laughed at her, but Hermione didn't need a wand to knock him unconscious. With one well-aimed swing, Hermione knocked him out then moved to check on Luna.

"I'm okay," she promised, her voice softer than usual. She was still wearing her costume from her time on stage so Flint hadn't been able to get very far, but Hermione was still shaking with anger.

"I told you not to walk alone on the weekends," Hermione said softly, sinking onto the bed beside her. Luna nodded. She'd only needed to go to the bathroom, she said, but Hermione didn't want to hear it. All the girls knew Flint got handsy on the weekends. Monitoring all those who came to have sex with the dancers seemed to get to his head and not a weekend went by where he didn't at least try to fuck one of them without Mr. Malfoy's permission. On days when he did get special permission, there was no stopping him.

"What the fuck was that?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from Luna to see Draco standing in the room with Cho and Lavender beside him. He was staring at Flint with wide eyes while the girls looked unamused. In her rush to find Luna, Hermione had completely forgotten Draco had been in her room. With one glance at Luna, she stood from the bed and sent one last object flying at Flint's head wordlessly.

"That's none of your business," she informed him before turning back to Luna and escorting her safely to her dressing room.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco didn't return to _Le Blanc_ for the rest of the weekend. Instead, he spent Saturday avoiding Severus and acting like they hadn't run into each other in a private room at a nightclub. Fortunately, as he'd assumed, Severus did not tell his father about the night at _Le Blanc_. When Draco accidentally overheard his father asking Severus how he had found "his Golden Girl", Severus said it had been wonderful indeed. Draco disappeared into the gardens for several hours after that.

One thing Draco could not push from his mind, no matter how hard he tried, was the image of Hermione sending a firestorm of objects at Marcus Flint when he'd assaulted the blonde girl. She had just told him how his father had locked her wand away for the remainder of her contract and she hadn't actually had it for three years, yet she'd been able to cast several wandless and nonverbal spells in a fit of rage. Draco had been so stunned he hadn't realised he'd spoken until all the girls looked at him. He'd remained in Flint's room until the git had woken up just so he could punch him squarely in the face and threaten to fire him if he ever heard of him messing with another one of the dancers. Before Flint could spit at him, Draco had left the club and holed up in his room for the remainder of the night.

"Draco, darling," his mother called through the door. Draco glared at it, but the handle didn't turn. "Blaise is here for you. He looks rather annoyed."

Draco flicked his hand in the direction of the door and it opened to allow Blaise in. His mother left before the door closed fully, but Draco was still certain she heard Blaise's exclamation of "what the fuck, mate?" before she'd disappeared.

"You left me at _Le Blanc_ drunk," Blaise accused. Draco rolled his eyes. "Your father could have found me and I'd be screwed."

"Was that not your goal?" Draco replied. Blaise fumed and Draco ducked when he sloppily tried to punch him. "Fighting's really not your style, Zabini. Can I interest you in tea and a chair?"

"Cut the shit, Malfoy," Blaise snapped. Draco procured a chair and Blaise glared at him fiercely as he dropped into it. A second later, a teapot was pouring tea beside him and Blaise was grumbling to himself as he took the cup. Draco took a cup as well, but only after three sugars and a spoon of honey had dropped into the cup.

Blaise and Draco stared at each other. Draco had just lifted his cup to his lips when it was shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. As the hot tea covered his lap, Draco took a long breath before looking up at Blaise. His pathetic friend looked ever so smug as he sipped his own tea. Without a word, Draco repaired his cup, cleaned the tea from his lap, and procured the teapot again to make himself a new cup.

"Why do you go to _Le Blanc_ so often?" Draco asked Blaise, using magic to ensure this cup of tea didn't go all over. If Blaise tried to shatter the cup again, Draco didn't care. He wouldn't be able to and that's all that mattered.

"Have you not seen the girls—"

"No, no, there's a different reason," Draco insisted. Blaise didn't know both of the bartenders by name because he liked watching the girls dance just like Draco didn't go backstage to talk to all of the girls. Whatever Blaise's reasoning for visiting the nightclub, Draco wanted to know. After the Flint disaster he'd witnessed, he wanted to know if it was common for stragglers to slip past the pathetic bodyguard. If it was, Blaise would know with how often he visited.

"Why do you always leave me to disappear backstage?" Blaise countered. Draco smirked behind his teacup.

"You answer me, I'll answer you," Draco offered. Blaise seemed to consider it for a few moments longer than Draco anticipated. When he lowered his cup to look at Draco, Draco found himself pausing his own movements.

"There's a girl there," he said hesitantly. Draco scoffed and Blaise glared at him, reminding Draco he didn't have to tell him anything. Nodding, Draco waved him along. Blaise looked even more hesitant as he said, "You wouldn't know her. She went to Hogwarts with me but my parents would have never allowed me to be friends with her."

"How'd you find out she was at _Le Blanc_?" Draco asked. Blaise had gotten lucky when Theo offered him a free ticket one night. Ever since, he'd managed to get in with illusion charms. Once inside, he didn't need to be someone else as no one was checking.

"I go in hopes of actually talking to her someday," Blaise said with a pathetic shrug. Draco nodded, wanting to ask who it was but knowing it wouldn't really matter to him. He didn't know anyone from Hogwarts other than the other Pureblood kids he'd grown up with and—now—Hermione.

"Good on you, mate," Draco said, trying not to make Blaise feel like he was kidding. Blaise gave him a look, but after a while, he seemed to recognise Draco wasn't mocking him.

"Now you," Blaise said with a smirk. Draco rolled his eyes and took the last sip of his tea. After vanishing the teacup, Draco glanced out his window before repeating a similar story to Blaise.

"I met a girl there," he murmured. Blaise rolled his eyes and started telling Draco to come off it, but Draco insisted. "The Golden Girl," Draco said, promptly shutting Blaise up. "Her name is Hermione and I'm pretty sure I caught her off guard when I appeared in her dressing room the first time—"

"Her dressing room?" Blaise exclaimed, almost dropping his teacup. If he hadn't cast a charm last minute, the cup would have shattered on the ground. As he levitated it back up to his hands and Draco repeated from where he'd been interrupted, Blaise did drop his cup. "You've been in her dressing room more than once?"

"Do you want me to explain or not?" Draco hissed. Blaise fixed his teacup but didn't bother with more tea. Just like Draco's had, his cup vanished after being repaired.

"Shit, go on," Blaise insisted, leaning forward. Draco rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

It was easy to talk about Hermione, he found, despite how awkward he'd thought it would be. He told about how she'd mistaken him for his father the first time and then thought he'd been sent to have sex with her the following day. Blaise lost his shit at that part and tears formed in his eyes when Draco revealed she'd been intended to meet with Severus.

"Shit, he was her potions teacher!" Blaise wheezed. Draco couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face as he recalled Hermione saying the same thing, albeit less vulgar.

When Blaise recovered, Draco continued on to the Marcus Flint disaster.

"Mate, you should have seen her at Hogwarts," Blaise said after hearing Draco tell him about the wandless nonverbal magic. Draco listened intently as Blaise recalled how she often perfected advanced charms before anyone else and how she always seemed to excel at magic. "It's no surprise she can do nonverbals without a wand even three years later," Blaise told him. It was then that Blaise settled down a bit, biting his bottom lip a little. "It's kind of disgusting how all their wands are confiscated though. She may be a muggle-born, but her magic and her wand are still apart of her identity."

Draco paused at that.

"She's muggle-born?" he asked. Blaise nodded, stunning Draco even more. He supposed she could never have been a Pureblood without him knowing her growing up, but hearing she was a muggle-born had surprised him. Knowing his father had hired a muggle-born as his star dancer was even more surprising.

"What? Do you not fancy her anymore?" Blaise said drily. Several years ago when Draco had still been young and stupid, he would have said yes and told Blaise he'd only been kidding about liking her. Now, though, he was more intrigued.

"Blood status doesn't matter to me like it does my father," Draco replied. Blaise looked at him but nodded along slowly.

The room fell into silence as they each got distracted by their own thoughts. With the weekend coming to a close, Draco had planned on returning to the nightclub the next night. Of course, he wasn't entirely keen on watching Hermione flip her skirt over her head a dozen times in front of an audience, so he had planned on arriving later and simply meeting her in her dressing room. At some point, he figured he should ask if she was alright with him simply appearing. However, the thought had slipped his mind the last time and he couldn't very well send her an owl without his father finding out.

"You going back tomorrow?" Blaise asked. If Draco hadn't known any better, he would have assumed Blaise had read his mind. Unfortunately for Blaise, Draco was much better at Occlumency than Blaise could ever hope to be at Legilimency, so Draco knew his mind was not in danger of being invaded.

"Yeah," Draco answered. One look from Blaise told Draco he'd be going along as well, so he said, "I'll meet you inside."

"Don't fancy the show anymore?" Blaise teased. Draco sent him a look, but the smile didn't leave Blaise's face.

"Not a fan of babysitting drunkards," he retorted. Blaise conjured a rock just to throw it at Draco and miss. With that settled, Blaise promptly changed the subject to Saturday's quidditch game and derailed Draco's meticulously planned day.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione supposed she should get used to seeing Draco Malfoy appear in her dressing room when it happened for the third time. She hadn't seen him in the audience (not that she'd been looking on purpose), but she hadn't been entirely shocked when he stepped through the door of her dressing room with a smile.

"It's been a few days," she said. She knew he'd likely stayed away because of what she'd told him happened over the weekends, but she still pointed it out. It's not that she was annoyed he hadn't shown up; rather the opposite. If he had appeared in the middle of a round with that Dolohov git, Hermione had no doubt she'd find herself on the receiving end of a painful curse.

"Didn't want to interrupt something," Draco said vaguely. Hermione nodded and faced her mirror again. She watched Draco cautiously walk around her room, avoiding her bed like it was diseased. He settled on a stool she kept by her closet and she hid a smile at his discomfort.

"Did you know Flint has a broken nose?" she said, avoiding his eyes as she finished with her hair. She knew very well how Flint had gotten his broken nose, but she wanted to see if Draco would admit to it. "I could have sworn the lamp missed his nose, but perhaps I blinked."

"Yes, perhaps you did," Draco agreed. Hermione shook her curls free with her hand before carefully pulling off her eyelash extensions. She found the muggle invention much more practical than a spell. They were more reliable and didn't have the risk of permanently attaching to her eyes.

With Draco watching, Hermione didn't want to remove all of her make-up. She tended to wait until she was alone so she could watch as her magic pulled the colours from her face and swirled around in front of her before disappearing. For some reason, allowing someone to watch her felt strange. 

"I believe the last time you were here, you asked what my favourite colour was," Hermione said. Draco looked up at this, clearly a little shocked. Why, she had no idea. He was the one that came into her dressing room. At the very least, he could continue a conversation. "It's red," she told him. He smiled.

"Mine's green," he replied. She looked at him through the mirror, taking note of how grey his eyes were and smiling as well.

"Suit's you," she said. Draco chuckled and asked what she meant by that, but Hermione didn't bother answering him. "You didn't go to Hogwarts. I think I would have remembered you. Where did you go?"

"What makes you think I'm the same age as you?" Draco taunted. Hermione rolled her eyes. If he wasn't near her age, he wouldn't have said such a thing, something she pointed out to him as she turned on her chair to face him. "Fine. I went to Durmstrang, a wizarding school in the far north."

Hermione nodded in understanding. She knew only a little about the two other wizarding schools in Europe, but one thing she happened to know about Durmstrang was that the school was well known for its Dark Arts curriculum. It was entirely unsurprising that Lucius Malfoy would send his son to such a school.

"Did you know Blaise Zabini?" Draco asked her. Hermione thought for a moment. The name sounded familiar and she was certain she'd recognise his face, but as of right then, she couldn't pin a face to the name. "What about Theo Nott? Pansy Parkinson?"

"You're listing off Slytherins as though I was one of them," Hermione said. She might not have known the three very well, but she knew enough to recognise the names as Slytherin students. Undoubtedly, Draco would have been in Slytherin had he attended Hogwarts. Fortunately for her, he hadn't and would therefore not care as much to discover she'd been in Gryffindor.

"Blaise recognised you," Draco told her. Hermione shrugged. It was one thing for Blaise to know who she was and another thing for her to know him. Ron had been rather against all of the Slytherins and kept her and Harry from forming any friendships with students from the Slytherin house, but she at least knew the names of some students there. 

They talked for longer than usual. When Draco finally left, Hermione realised it had been an hour since the club had closed and she was still in full make-up and costume. As soon as Draco disappeared, she ripped off the forsaken gold gown and pulled the make-up from her face. Newly free from the offending items, she grabbed a blanket she kept hidden in her closet and curled up on top of her bed. Unwillingly to pull back the covers that still hadn't been washed from her weekend endeavors, she kept the comforter firmly in place as she laid on her bed. With a flick of her hand, the lights in her room shut off accept for one that glowed constantly to keep her from ever being fully in the dark. Her mind was busy sorting through that day's events, but when she finally fell asleep, it was replaying her conversation with Draco. 

* * *

Draco visited her every night for the rest of the week. He stayed away on the weekend, but Hermione was glad for it. Running into him moments before she had to sleep with someone would ruin her evening more than it was already doomed to be. When he returned to her dressing room the following Monday, things returned to normal and they talked until late into the night once more. 

It was Wednesday evening now, long after the shows had ended, and she and Draco were sat on the floor Indian style. She'd managed to remove her make-up before Draco knocked on her door but she was still in her gold show dress. He'd arrived with his shirt buttoned nicely and a blazer on his shoulders, but now his blazer was draped across her vanity chair and his sleeves had been rolled back. Hermione was in the middle of asking what Draco did for a living when her dressing room door was thrown open and a tall, dark-skinned man stumbled in.

"Thank goodness you're in here!" he exclaimed, looking past her and at Draco. Hermione frowned. "I need somewhere to hide."

"Blaise," Draco sighed. Now that he was standing in front of her and Draco had confirmed his name, Hermione did recognise the boy as Blaise Zabini. Luckily for Blaise, she didn't have much time to really process it before he was attempting to hide in her closet.

"Hey—"

She was cut off by her door opening again as Luna walked in quietly. Hermione stared at her as Luna looked around the room before her eyes landed on her and Draco. At the sight of them, Luna smiled.

"Is Blaise in the closet?" she asked. Hermione nodded but from the corner of her eye, she saw Draco shake his head. She turned to look at him while Luna moved to the closet. As the closet door slid open and Blaise appeared, Luna's smile grew by the slightest bit.

"Hey, Lovegood," Blaise said, leaning against the closet frame and nearly toppling over when he missed it. "Fancy seeing you here."

"You were in my dressing room," Luna told him. Hermione frowned. While Luna didn't appear bothered about it, Hermione couldn't be sure. Besides, what had Blaise been doing in her dressing room anyway?

"Yeah, just wanted to say 'hi'," Blaise said. Even Hermione heard his voice raise slightly and she didn't really know him. 

"Oh, hello then," Luna replied. Blaise stepped out of Hermione's closet awkwardly and glanced at Draco. Draco just shrugged while Hermione carefully watched Luna for any sign of discomfort. Finally admitting to herself Luna was fine, Hermione relaxed. "Sorry to disturb you, Hermione," Luna said, smiling at her. "I just wanted to make sure Blaise hadn't been running from the nargles in my room."

"Of course," Hermione said at the same time Draco's face scrunched up and he said, "Nargles?"

"Oh yes, they're nasty little things, nargles are," Luna told Draco. He nodded, glancing at Hermione uncertainly. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I just cleansed my room of them, but they always seem to come back quickly."

"I'll help!" Blaise offered. Hermione frowned at him, but she noticed Draco was smirking. Blaise was clearly trying very hard not to glare at his friend as he said, "I've never seen a nargle and it sounds like you should cleanse your room again."

"You have a wand," Luna pointed out as they walked from Hermione's room. The door shut before Hermione could hear what else Luna said, but as soon as she looked back at Draco, she knew he had a lot of questions about the girl already.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco had a problem. It wasn't a bad problem, but it also wasn't necessarily a good problem. It was a mediocre problem. Every evening after work at the Ministry, he found himself apparating to _Le Blanc_ just as the shows ended and the girls were returning to their dressing rooms. On weekends, he stayed far away and often ended up drinking himself unconscious in an attempt to forget that his father sold his dancers to strangers. It didn't usually work, but he was determined to make it work at some point.

However, when he walked into _Le Blanc_ for the third week in a row, he knew something was wrong. He'd managed to catch the tail end of the finale and while Hermione appeared to be blowing kisses and waving to the audience as usual, Draco could tell something was off. As she walked off the stage, Draco frowned. While it was not terribly obvious, Draco could see she was limping. He watched her closely as she exited the stage and as soon as he could see her no more, he hurried backstage.

Flint didn't even try to stop him as he moved past him and through the bustling girls that now said hello when he passed. While he usually responded back, this time he arrived at Hermione's dressing room without having spoken a word. As he stepped into her room quietly, she looked up from where she was slouching in front of her vanity. An empty vial was sat in front of her and one of the twins was on her way out. The girl didn't say anything as she slipped past Draco and closed the door behind her.

"You're limping," he said. He immediately wanted to force his head through the nearest wall at the obvious and stupid statement, but he refrained.

"Parvati managed to smuggle a potion in last night so I'll be fine," Hermione told him, showing him the empty vial as if she needed to prove herself.

"What happened?" he asked. He knew the kinds of men his father sent Hermione's way. After learning what happened at _Le Blanc_ on weekends, Draco paid closer attention to who was busy and who wasn't. He'd had to keep himself from punching Mulciber's nose in after a very straightforward comment about his weekend escapades. His mother had been concerned, but he hadn't said a word.

"Cho thinks my hip was dislocated and set poorly," Hermione said, avoiding his eyes. Draco frowned, trying not to imagine just what she wasn't telling him. "It doesn't bother me so much until after a show."

Draco didn't doubt that. Dislocating anything was painful enough; having to perform like nothing was the matter would only make it worse. He doubted his father would really care, though, so when he asked if a healer had actually looked at it and Hermione said no, he wasn't truly surprised. Instead, he was glad he'd bothered taking a few healing classes at Durmstrang. He offered to check for her just to make sure nothing worse had happened and Hermione, albeit reluctantly, agreed.

Casting the spell was easy enough. Remembering how to read all the diagnostics was a little bit harder. It didn't take very long for it to all come back to him and soon Draco was trying to figure out how the hell Hermione's hip could have dislocated in such a way.

"So?" Hermione prompted. Draco blinked away from the diagnostics and looked back up at her.

"It was dislocated," he confirmed. And it had been set again, thankfully without pinching a nerve or resting in a way he would have to dislocate it again just to fix it. "How did you dislocate your hip, Hermione?"

Hermione pursed her lips, clearly not wanting to tell him. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds and right before Draco was going to try to convince her to tell him a different way, the doorknob twisted.

Hermione was on her feet and shoving Draco behind her changing wall before Draco could even blink. He crouched behind the wall as Hermione hissed at him to stay silent and sat back in front of her vanity. The potion vial was knocked under the vanity top and Hermione hastily pulled a few pins from her hair to make it seem like she'd been doing her hair this whole time.

"I told you not to ruin the show," his father said before he'd even fully entered the room. Draco watched as Hermione continued to calmly remove pins from her hair, though she did turn to look at his father. "Not only did you limp off the stage, but I had two customers notice the bruises you couldn't bother to cover up."

"I did cover them up," Hermione replied. Through the mirror, Draco saw Hermione turn to glare at his father. "It's difficult to perform lasting magic without a wand."

He heard the hit more so than saw it. Draco tensed at the sound of his father hitting Hermione, but stopped himself from appearing from around the changing wall. The least that would do was make things worse.

"I don't care," Lucius hissed at her. "You deserve the pain after what Dolohov said you were like Saturday. Can you imagine how angry he was when he couldn't get his second night with you? I had to refund him!"

Before Hermione could respond, Draco heard his father hit her again. He fumed at both what his father said and how he was treating her. However, now he knew what had happened to her that weekend and he wasn't above ordering a hit on that Dolohov git.

"If you want me to perform like usual, I need a night off," Hermione demanded. Draco braced himself for another hit, but he didn't hear it. "Just one night and I can be back to normal, I swear."

Silence echoed in the room before Lucius grunted.

"The first half of tomorrow," he told her. Someone shifted and Draco's view in the mirror returned so he could see his father forcing Hermione to look at him. "That's all you get or I'll beat you."

Without another word, Lucius shoved her back like she'd offended him somehow and stormed from the room. Hermione barely stumbled as she came in contact with her vanity chair and watched her door slam shut. Draco quietly slipped out from behind the changing wall, surprised when she jumped at the sight of him.

"I forgot you were there," she said quietly. Draco nodded though he suspected part of her reaction had to do with how similar he looked to his father. Sometimes it didn't bother him, but times like this, it did.

"Does he often treat you like that?" Draco asked. Hermione hesitated before shrugging.

"I suppose," she admitted. She didn't meet his eyes as she said, "He's often testy after rough shows or when the weekend doesn't bring in as much as he planned for it to."

Draco was immediately reminded of Dolohov. He knew how irritable the old git was, but that didn't make things better. In the three days he'd been away, Hermione had been injured greatly and his father refused to care.

With a sigh, Draco brought his hand up to gently caress Hermione's face. It was red where his father had hit her, but Hermione didn't flinch at the contact. His eyes drifted to where the empty potion vial had been laying when he'd first arrived and he made a mental note to bring her more the next day. If his father wouldn't let her heal properly, he'd make sure she had as many pain-relieving potions and healing potions as possible.

"I'm sorry about my father," Draco said softly. Hermione gave him a soft smile and let him pull her closer. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and relished in the way she seemed totally comfortable in his embrace.

"You cannot control him," Hermione reminded him. Draco grunted, stopping himself from reminding her the Imperius curse was always an option. Instead, he released her and took a step back.

"I should find Blaise before it's too late," he said. Hermione nodded and sat down in front of her vanity. Draco paused, watching her for a moment before leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to her cheek. "Goodnight, Hermione."

He scurried out of the room before he could see her reaction and ignoring the heat that crept onto his cheeks as he hurried through the backstage halls.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was inspecting her hip the next evening when he burst into her room. She was wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and pyjama shorts which were more than she usually wore when Mr. Malfoy burst into her room, but for some reason, she wished she had been wearing her show dress when he'd arrived. Something about him seeing her in her own clothes felt strange and she knew he hated anything too terribly muggle-like. Mr. Malfoy didn't seem to care what she was wearing, however, as he grabbed her wrist tightly and forced her to stand in front of him.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" he growled at her, making her forget entirely about the purple and red bruises covering her hip. "Did you think Flint couldn't be paid enough? Did you think I couldn't see him in the mirror?"

"What?" Hermione asked. It was all she could get out before Mr. Malfoy was throwing her across the room. She hit the edge of her bed before crashing to the floor. Her injured hip throbbed at the impact, but she ignored it as his fist sailed towards her face.

She felt the pain before she heard the _crack_ of his fist on her cheek. Hermione closed her eyes and curled up tightly to avoid any more attacks. Mr. Malfoy refrained from hitting her again, however, in favour of grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look up at him. He was furious, more so than Hermione could remember him ever being before.

"You will stay away from my son," he ordered. He yanked her hair when she nodded and she stopped moving, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. "He comes every night, I know, but you will stay away. I don't care if you have to fuck a patron in front of him, you will make him hate you."

Roughly, Mr. Malfoy released her hair and she sagged in relief. He wasn't finished though, and his angry gaze kept her from clambering off the ground.

"Until my son forgets who you are and stops coming, I am going to make your life miserable," he growled, spitting in her face as she spoke. She stopped herself from pointing out that it already was miserable, but Mr. Malfoy seemed to have read her mind because he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet so he could down and say, "If you think this is misery, you're going to be sadly mistaken. This problem will be fixed by the end of the month or I will snap your wand and leave you to the wolves, understood?"

Hermione nodded, but that wasn't enough for him.

"UNDERSTOOD?" he roared, the shout echoing in her head and making her eyes close instinctively.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. Mr. Malfoy released her, but she didn't move. She kept her eyes on the ground as he stared at her with that familiar look of disgust.

"I expect you on at exactly the halfway mark," he sneered. She nodded once more and waited until the door had slammed behind him to let her knees give out.

She collapsed onto her bed, but she didn't cry. She wanted to, but her body didn't seem to agree. So instead, she sat on her bed, shaking but not crying. When Luna drifted softly into her room to tell her they were starting the routine before hers, Hermione nodded and numbly got dressed. If Luna noticed her distant mood at all—and Hermione was sure she did—she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she waited for Hermione outside of the dressing room before the two walked to the side of the stage and waited for the music cue. 

* * *

Hermione expected Draco to appear in her dressing room after the show. She'd been trying to think of excuses to make him leave when he showed up, but he never did appear in her room. Instead, Mr. Malfoy did with an unfamiliar man. She hadn't had time to change or remove her make-up and she was suddenly very glad.

"This is a friend of mine," Mr. Malfoy said, smiling blankly at the man standing at his side. They were all friends of his, but Hermione knew some of them had to be just patrons. She also knew introducing customers as simple patrons wouldn't go over as well as being introduced as a friend.

"Hello, doll," the man said, looking over Hermione hungrily. She was used to the action and she knew very well how she was expected to react to it. But as she fluttered her eyes and smiled coyly at him, she remembered it was a Tuesday night and not the weekend.

"Why, Mr. Malfoy sir, you always bring such lovely friends," she said, looking up at her boss. He had a hard look on his face, but Hermione still said, "I only ever get to see them on the weekends, though. Why the sudden change?"

If the man saw Mr. Malfoy sneer at her, Hermione would have been surprised. The look on his face told her he was too busy thinking about when she'd flipped her skirt over her head that night and the many others before.

"I thought you could use some cheering up," Mr. Malfoy replied, gesturing to the man. "Your usual company has been otherwise occupied as I mentioned earlier, so Yaxley here will be stepping in."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, but at least now she knew not to worry about Draco walking in at an inconvenient time.

"Of course," she said, smiling back at the man, Yaxley.

Mr. Malfoy patted his back and Yaxley promised to leave a review when he was finished. Hermione managed to keep her face blank as always and ignore the comment. As soon as Yaxley and Mr. Malfoy had said their momentary goodbyes and the door had closed, Hermione was immediately forced to play the familiar role of a weak muggle girl.

"Lucius tells me you're very skilled," Yaxley purred, moving towards her. She hummed, tracking his hands as they slid around her waist before dipping down to cup her ass.

"I don't like to brag," she told him, moaning on instinct when he started to grope around her ass and press her hips to his, "But I do know a few things or two."


	9. Chapter 9

Draco was confused. He'd arrived at _L_ _e_ _Blanc_ like he had every other weeknight, but Flint had stopped him on his way back to Hermione's room. The git said something about his father wanting to talk to him which had only confused Draco more. He'd been directed to his father's office and waited for almost half an hour before his father walked into the room with a slight smirk.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away forever, Draco," his father said. He gestured to a chair and Draco took a seat after his father had sat in his own. "What was it that drew you here anyway? The dances? The bar?"

"Blaise," Draco said shortly. Whatever this was about, Draco doubted his father would really tell him. Perhaps his father would try and convince him this wasn't a place for him, in which case Draco would point out Marcus Flint was a bodyguard so clearly age wasn't the problem.

"Ah, I have seen him here," his father said, nodding as if he was fond of Blaise. Draco knew well enough his father only tolerated his friend, but that didn't mean much to Draco. His father didn't like a lot of things and the things he did like, Draco found repulsive.

"Why am I really here?" Draco asked. He knew his father so he knew there was a hidden agenda, but he didn't much care for it at this point.

"If you're interested in _Le Blanc_ enough to visit every day," his father said, making Draco raise an eyebrow. "Then maybe you would be interested in running some of the other clubs."

Draco had not been expecting a job offer of sorts. He'd been fully expecting his father to send him away and tell him _Le Blanc_ was not the place for him to spend his evenings. He was curious as to how his father knew he was coming every night, but Flint was a piece of shit and Draco had a feeling he'd been the one to tell his father.

"I thought all the other clubs had managers," Draco said. His father waved his hand and reached for a bottle of whiskey.

"Yes, but as the nightclubs will one day fall into your hands, perhaps maybe you could use the extra work or practice with the lesser known clubs. Whiskey?"

Draco shook his head. He'd already had a couple of drinks that night and he wasn't in the mood for another.

"Would you be interested in the other clubs then, Draco?" his father asked. He took a sip of his whiskey, keeping his eyes on Draco as he did so. Before Draco could really answer, his father said, "We can visit tonight. A few of them should do; any that we miss can be visited tomorrow."

Draco sighed. His father was set on the idea of showing Draco around some of the other clubs so he knew there was no real escape. He'd been to some of the others, but not all, and his father did have a point. If Draco was to one day take over the Malfoy nightclubs, Draco needed to be well acquainted with them. That is if Draco was planning on taking over the business after his father. He honestly had no interest in the business, but now was not the time to bring that up.

"Come, let's go," his father said. They both stood from their seats and Lucius grabbed hold of Draco's arm in order to apparate them both to a different club.

They appeared on the sidewalk outside of a club Draco knew well enough. Aside from _Le Blanc_ , _Rouge_ was the most popular nightclub around. Draco had frequented it a couple of times before but had eventually grown tired of it and quit going. Apparently, his father did not know this because he took Draco on a long and thorough tour of the place. By the time they had finished, Draco had met a few of the dancers and other workers. It was nearly two hours later when he and his father were finally walking out of the club.

"What do you think, son?" his father asked, swirling his third glass of whiskey for the night. "Is _Rouge_ the club for you?"

"In all honesty, father," Draco started, glancing at his father. "I'm not too sure I want to run any of the clubs."

"We'll visit more tomorrow night," his father insisted. Draco pursed his lips as his father told him to go home and he would be following shortly after.

As much as Draco wanted to see Hermione, he knew it was too late. By the time he got there, she'd likely be unwinding and getting ready to sleep. He'd figure out some way to evade his father tomorrow night and apologise for not stopping by that night. First, though, he'd have to return home and go about the next day as usual. The only way to make tomorrow night come faster, he supposed, was to sleep, and unfortunately, that meant he'd have to return home as his father had ordered and pretend his night hadn't been ruined.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione got the point, okay? She understood that Mr. Malfoy didn't want her around his son, but he didn't need to keep sending patrons to enforce it. Tuesday had been rough; she'd cried herself to sleep. Wednesday? Wednesday night he had sent two different men her way at the same time. It wasn't the first time she'd been forced into a threesome, but it was made worse when she knew it was to keep her away from Draco. The regular sex and abuse from dancing weren't helping her hip heal, but she did have less time to think about it. Parvati continued to supply her with pain relieving potions, but they did nothing to actually heal her hip. Mr. Malfoy himself had cast concealment charms to cover the bruises each night, but he made sure she knew he hated her for it.

When Thursday came, Hermione was unsurprised to find a man waiting eagerly in her dressing room after the show. After he'd left, Luna came in and they both went to shower. That night, Hermione spent the night in Luna's room and neither said anything about it.

The weekend continued as usual. Hermione spent her night with strangers like she always did, but when Mr. Malfoy came in Monday morning, he reminded her why she hadn't been alone in a week. She'd almost yelled at him, but managed not to. Parvati came in after that with more pain relieving potions and a smile.

That Monday night, Hermione was dreading the end of the shows. She usually longed for the escape of her room, but the odds of a strange man entering were higher than usual. All she wanted was to have one night of peace. When Mr. Malfoy was called away near the end of the show because of a problem at one of the other night clubs, however, Hermione realised she might actually get a break.

She was hurrying back to her dressing room when Mr. Malfoy grabbed her arm and her heart dropped to her stomach. He pulled her to the side and glared at any of the girls that tried to eavesdrop.

"I know my son and I know he's waiting for you," he told her. Hermione tried to hide her excitement at the thought of Draco already waiting for her, but Mr. Malfoy seemed to have sensed it. He raised his hand and slapped her hard. "You will make him hate you. If he returns here again for you, I will make you both watch as I snap your wand and let Fenrir Greyback treat you like the filth you are, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied. Mr. Malfoy glared at her for a second before releasing her.

"Get out of my sight," he snarled. Hermione didn't need to be told twice.

She tried not to run back to her room, but she couldn't help the quick pace she moved at. When she finally arrived at her dressing room, she paused. Yes, she would see Draco for the first time in a week, but she needed him to leave hating her and she suddenly wasn't too excited about seeing him. She hadn't even figured out how she would go about it. She hadn't had the time. Now, though? Now she had only a few seconds to come up with a plan that would send him away forever. Whatever she told him tonight is what he would remember her as.

With a deep breath, she twisted the handle of her room and stepped inside.

Draco was standing by her vanity, collecting the empty vials of potion and supplying her with a few more. She stared at him, jumping when the door closed behind her. His head snapped up to look at her and he smiled. She couldn't have stopped her own smile if she'd wanted to.

"I'm so sorry about this past week!" he said, taking the few steps towards her. He hugged her tightly and Hermione closed her eyes. This would be the last time he hugged her and she couldn't bring herself to hug him back. "My father insisted I visit the other clubs," Draco told her. He pulled back just enough to look at her and frowned. His fingers reached up for her cheek and he asked, "What happened?"

"Cho thought I stole her lipstick," Hermione lied easily. Draco snorted and Hermione used the distraction to take a step away from him.

"My father thinks I'm interested in the other clubs from a business standpoint," Draco told her. He looked like he wanted to move closer, but he didn't. Hermione took a minuscule step back once more and his expression flickered. "I've been forced to visit a new club every night and I'm so sorry I haven't been—"

"I asked him to," Hermione interrupted. Draco frowned, but an idea had formed in her head and it was really her best bet of getting Draco out of there. "I told him you kept coming around, so I told him to keep you busy; thought you might enjoy the other clubs."

"You told—What?" Draco asked, looking utterly confused and a little upset. Hermione ignored the look he gave her. "You told him to keep me busy? Why?" he demanded. Hermione shrugged, looking behind him at her unmade bed.

"I didn't want you around anymore," she told him. She stepped around him to take a seat at her vanity. Feigning casualty, she said, "You kept coming by and I needed someone to make you stop. Merlin knows Flint would never, so I told your father."

The room lapsed into silence for a second and Hermione began taking the pins from her hair to distract her from it. Thankfully, Draco was facing away from her at the moment so she didn't have to look at his face.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he said slowly, turning around to face her. Hermione sighed in irritation but still didn't look up at him.

"I thought with being a pureblood, you'd understand basic things," she taunted. In the mirror, she saw Draco's eyes narrow as his expression faded into a blank stare. "Let me dumb it down: I don't like you. I don't want you around. I really just wish you would leave me alone."

Hermione was surprised she didn't choke on her words. She focused very intently on taking the pins from her hair and putting them in a jar. If she looked at Draco, she'd cave and tell him it was all a lie. All it would take to ruin her perfectly good acting was a sad look from him. She couldn't do it. She'd have to do it all without looking at him.

Unfortunately for Hermione, Draco seemed to have other intentions. Rather than refuse to look at her, he grabbed her face and made him look at her. Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes made contact with his for a split second. Before she could blink, Draco was pulling her face up to his and pressing his lips to hers. Her eyes closed on their own accord, but she told herself it was to keep her tears at bay. She tried to keep from kissing back, but her body betrayed her and she found herself pressing herself closer to him. He pulled away as soon as she did.

"You don't hate me," he told her. She looked behind him at her door, but his hands on her face guided her gaze back to his. "Look at me!" he cried, his voice cracking at the end. Hermione closed her eyes instead.

"Leave," she told him. Draco didn't pull away. His hands stayed on her face and when she dared to open her eyes, she saw just how upset he was.

"You don't believe any of that," he said, shaking his head. Hermione pulled away from him, standing up from her chair and taking two steps backward.

"I do," she insisted. Draco shook his head and stepped towards her, but she shot out a hand to stop him. "Leave, Draco, and don't ever come back."

Draco stared at her blankly for a few seconds before his head dropped to his chest. A second later, he nodded.

"Alright, Hermione," he murmured. He didn't look back up at her as he turned around and walked to the door. He didn't look at her when he opened the door and he left without another word. Hermione held her breath until she was certain he was gone. When she felt it was safe, she let herself cry until she had no more tears to cry.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco was drunk. He was beyond drunk, actually. He was at the point where things were only blurs and voices were just sounds. Even Blaise was hard to recognise and when Draco didn't immediately know who he was, he gave up trying to figure it out. Instead, he let the strange blur hover beside him as he grumbled about something. What was he even grumbling about? Something about a club and a girl. Was it a wine club? Had one of the girls at the wine club poisoned him? Maybe that's why he was grumbling about her.

The blur beside him made a sound too loud for Draco's liking. Draco yelled and tried to shove the loud blur away from him, but that only made the blur make the sound again. In another attempt to make the blur be silent, Draco tried punching it. The blur continued to make noise, so Draco tried to find his wand. Surely blurs couldn't withstand magic.

Before he could find his wand, however, the blur was reaching for him and Draco swatted at it. Unfortunately for Draco, the blur had prepared for this and a second later, Draco was falling asleep and toppling towards it. Maybe sleep would get the wine girl's poison out of his system.

* * *

Draco woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned and reached for his nightstand where he knew a vial of a hangover potion would be waiting. He didn't bother opening his eyes more than necessary to see the vial and waited until the potion had cleared his head to sit up.

Blaise was sitting on a chair nearby, that was the first thing he saw. He didn't even remember getting Blaise last night, but clearly they'd gone out drinking and Draco had overindulged. As he waited for Blaise to wake up, he tried to remember why or where they'd gone drinking. He knew he'd been meaning to visit Hermione and explain why he hadn't been there all week, but Blaise hadn't gone with him. In fact, Blaise hadn't appeared at all until Draco had had his fourth or fifth drink. But why had he gone drinking in the first place?

Blaise groaned and opened his eyes slowly. Draco watched until Blaise noticed he wasn't the only one awake, smirking when Blaise tried to throw something at him.

"What the fuck, man?" Blaise grumbled, adjusting himself on the chair and stretching awkwardly. "You haven't drunk that much since Pansy forced you to attend her 17th birthday party."

"You didn't drink?" Draco asked. Blaise shook his head. "Why not? What happened last night?"

"Fuck if I know," Blaise answered. A useless answer in Draco's opinion, but Blaise wasn't finished. "By the time the bartender owled me to come get you, you were drunk off your arse. You wouldn't stop talking about Hermione, though."

Hermione. Draco tried to remember why he could possibly be talking about Hermione when he suddenly remembered kissing her. He frowned. That shouldn't have made him go on a drinking rampage. He blinked and the rest of the memory hit him full force: Hermione telling him to leave, kissing her, feeling her kiss him back, then getting forced from her dressing room. Why had she kissed him back if she wanted him gone forever? Maybe it was just to indulge his fantasies. That was what she was best at, wasn't it? Indulging fantasies. 

"Ah, figured it out," Blaise muttered. Draco didn't answer. Instead, he slumped further into his bed while Blaise stood up. "Well, now that I know you're not dead, I'm heading out."

Draco still didn't say anything as Blaise left the room. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to care when the house elves came to bring him meals and to take away the previous meal trays. He didn't bother to turn on a light when his room got dark and when he woke up with a crick in his neck from falling asleep sitting upright, he didn't care.

He didn't leave his room for days. He only got up to bathe because his hair felt disgusting and he thought it might help. It didn't. His father had been waiting to talk to him about the other nightclubs when he'd come out and Draco hadn't had the energy to think up an excuse. He'd just nodded along, distracted with thoughts of Hermione and if their friendship really had been faked.

His mother came and sat with him on the third day. She'd asked him what was wrong, but he hadn't answered. She hadn't tried to force it out of him which he appreciated, but when she finally left, he felt like he could breathe again. Blaise walked in a minute after her.

"You look like shit, mate," Blaise had told him. Draco just glared at him and turned the page of his book. Blaise dropped down onto the chair across from Draco and stared at him in silence for several minutes. When Draco couldn't stand it anymore, he snapped his book closed and glared at Blaise.

"What?" he demanded. Blaise looked slightly amused at his reaction.

"I went to _Le Blanc_ last night," he said. Draco rolled his eyes. He didn't want to hear whatever Blaise was about to say and he knew it. "Talked with Luna a bit. You know what she said?"

"I don't care, Blaise," Draco growled, opening his book once more and regretting not bookmarking his page.

"Hermione's just as miserable," Blaise said. Draco paused for only a second before continuing his search for the right page. "She dances just as beautifully as before, but Luna says she's been staying the night in her dressing room."

"I don't care, Blaise," Draco repeated. Honestly, it wasn't a surprise Blaise had figured out Draco's mood had to do with Hermione. Blaise wasn't stupid.

"You know what's interesting, though?" Blaise mused. Draco would have said he didn't care for the third time, but Blaise didn't give him the chance to. "She's covered in glamour charms."

This time, Draco did pause. Hermione had always had a glamour charm on her, of course, when she danced. He could see it in the way her dress shined and her skin glowed. Blaise would have known this too. If she was covered in more glamour charms than usual, then perhaps something had happened to her that even his father was trying to hide.

Blaise didn't say anything else, however, and Draco didn't ask. Unfortunately, his book no longer held his interest and Draco found himself wondering if maybe Hermione hadn't been playing him, but if his father had been playing her.


	12. Chapter 12

The beginning of October meant _Le Blanc_ had an entirely new routine. The girls learned it in four days and performed it on October 1st to a full house. Hermione was still the Golden Girl, the center of attention, but she'd been given one less dance than usual. Instead, the Twins took on the extra routine and Hermione watched Mr. Malfoy carefully.

She knew he was becoming less and less happy with her. She had succeeded at getting Draco to stay away from _Le Blanc_ entirely, but for whatever reason, Mr. Malfoy was still angry with her. Aside from the night she'd last seen Draco, she'd had a patron in her room after every show. On the first night of the new routine, she had several lined up outside her door. She didn't get a wink of sleep that night.

Now, two days later, it had been an entire week since she'd confronted Draco and Mr. Malfoy had let her have last night off in terms of entertaining patrons after hours. She'd been forced to dance all night and morning to perfect their routine. Apparently, some of the girls had performed at a level less than perfect.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said, standing beside her as they watched Padma and Parvati perform their routine. Hermione hated the way the two girls had to act erotically with one another, but Mr. Malfoy insisted on it.

"Hi, Luna," Hermione said, smiling back at her.

"How's your hip?" Luna asked. Hermione smiled to herself. Luna was the one girl that Hermione would tell about the previous two weeks, but Luna would never force her to. She had spent several nights previously in Luna's room just to avoid the stench of her room, but Luna never asked about it. Instead, she asked about Hermione's hip that had been dislocated nearly three weeks earlier.

"I hardly notice it," Hermione answered. Luna nodded to herself as if that was exactly the answer she expected. "Has Blaise been by recently?"

Perhaps if Blaise had come, he'd told Luna how Draco was doing. Of course, Hermione doubted they talked about either her or Draco in the short time span they had to talk, but it was worth a shot.

"Oh, lots," Luna said. Hermione frowned, wondering how she hadn't noticed the boy when going down the hall to Luna's dressing room. Then again, she'd been rather preoccupied for several hours after the show, so it was reasonable to believe she'd miss Blaise's visit.

Before Hermione could ask if Blaise had mentioned Draco at all, Mr. Malfoy was calling for them to start the set from the top. The opening dance involved all the girls, so Hermione and Luna were separated to find their own spots.

* * *

After the show that night, Hermione saw Mr. Malfoy pull Padma and Parvati aside. She resisted the urge to listen in as she knew it would only cause more problems for her. Instead, she hurried to her dressing room only to stop short at the sight of Blaise in her room.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Blaise looked up from where he was poking through her things and gave her a wide grin.

"Just wanted to check up on you," he answered. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She'd been friendly with him when Draco was visiting her, but they'd never grown close. "Draco didn't send me if that's what you're thinking."

"That sounds exactly like what you would say if he did," Hermione told him. Blaise just smiled wider and she rolled her eyes. There was a risk of allowing Blaise to stay in her dressing room. With Mr. Malfoy sending patrons to her almost every night, he could very well get caught. The last thing she wanted was to give Mr. Malfoy another excuse to make her suffer.

"Do you need any more potions?" he asked, snagging the few empty vials hiding under her vanity. Hermione shook her head. There were still a few bruises on her hip, but it wasn't painful after dancing anymore and she only used the potions so it was easier to hide them.

"You should really go, Blaise," she told him. Blaise didn't seem to care. He just kept looking around her room casually. "Blaise, leave."

"Why?" he asked. Hermione frowned as he turned to look at her. "Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me?"

"Luna is who you usually see," Hermione reminded him. Blaise nodded. "Not me."

That didn't appear to matter to Blaise. At least, it didn't until there was a knock on the door. Hermione and Blaise immediately locked eyes.

"Are you expecting company?" Blaise asked. Hermione looked at the door worriedly then looked back to Blaise.

"You can't tell Draco," she hissed, shoving him behind her changing wall as she had with Draco weeks earlier. Blaise frowned, starting to ask why he couldn't tell Draco she was getting guests, but she shut him up. "I swear, Blaise, just don't. Apparate out of here and don't tell him."

"Hermione—"

The door swinging open made him fall silent. Hermione turned to see who had entered and found Mr. Malfoy standing in her doorway, surprisingly alone. His eyes swept across her room and Hermione hoped she was blocking his view of Blaise just right.

"Mulciber will be here in five minutes," he told her. Hermione nodded. Why he hadn't come with Mr. Malfoy, she didn't know. The few extra minutes to mentally prepare herself, however, were greatly appreciated. Mulciber had been ruthless the last few times he'd been with her and she wasn't looking forward to another time. "I expect you'll know how to behave given the consequences," Mr. Malfoy hissed. Hermione nodded once again. He looked her up and down and with a sneer he said, "Get changed."

The door slammed behind him as he left the room and Hermione's shoulders dropped. The sound of something moving behind her caused her to tense up, but it was only Blaise walking out from around her changing wall.

"I thought you only did that sort of thing on weekends," Blaise said quietly. Hermione avoided his eyes as she nodded.

"Don't tell Draco," she pleaded, looking up at him for a split second. Blaise hesitantly nodded.

"Fine," he agreed, watching her carefully as she moved to her closet in search of something.

She ignored his stare as she found a set of red lingerie and her sheer black robe. Before she could disappear behind the changing wall to get changed, however, Blaise grabbed her arm gently.

"Just—does he do this to everyone?" he asked quietly. Hermione looked up at him and he blinked a little too hard. "Does he—Luna?"

"No," Hermione answered honestly. She shook her head and Blaise released her. "Luna is one of the lucky ones."

Blaise nodded and glanced at the door. Only a few minutes before Mulciber would come barging into her room.

"I won't tell Draco," Blaise promised one last time. Hermione could see how badly he wanted to and she wondered how long it would be until he did, but any time at all was better than Draco finding out that night.

She thanked him softly then slipped behind the changing wall and changed as quickly as she could. She heard the door open and close as Blaise left and she took a deep breath. Just as she stepped around the wall to hang up her show dress, Mulciber stepped into her dressing room with a greedy smile. The lock clicked behind him and Hermione immediately switched from herself to the coy seductress she now had to play so often. At least when she wasn't herself, she could pretend this wasn't her life.


	13. Chapter 13

Draco was only leaving his room for breakfast. That's what he'd told himself, anyway. By the end of breakfast, he was being pulled along to a lunch meeting with his father. Apparently, two other club managers would be meeting them there and Draco should join if he was interested in taking over the business. Draco hadn't bothered to argue with his father about his interest in the nightclubs, but he had agreed to attend the meeting when his mother insisted it would be good for him. He wasn't sure how meeting with three pimps would be "good for him", but Draco knew getting out of the house is what she had meant. At least he wouldn't be tempted to try and visit Hermione during that time.

"You'll know the others," his father assured him as they walked the short distance from the apparation point to the restaurant they were meeting in. Draco hadn't been concerned about meeting the other club managers, but at least he wouldn't be dealing with strangers. "Angus Mulciber and Antonin Dolohov, you've met them both."

"Yes, I remember," Draco muttered. His father sent him a look as they stepped into the restaurant.

Not another word was spoken as the hostess led them to their table and they waited for the other two men. When they did arrive, Lucius got up to greet them both while Draco simply shook their hands. He didn't want to be here and as far as he was concerned, he didn't have to pretend he wanted to.

"I hear you're interested in taking over the Malfoy nightclubs, Draco," Dolohov said. Draco just nodded and took a sip of his wine. "Any club in particular that holds your interest?"

"I've only ever visited _Rouge_ and _Le Blanc_ for personal fun," Draco answered. All the other clubs, his father had shown him later on. Dolohov nodded at this, clearly proud his own club had been one that Draco had frequented.

"Only the best for you, I see," he replied. Draco gave a small smirk and nodded.

It was then the waitress arrived to hand them their menus and tell them of the specials. When she left, all four looked over the menus in silence before resuming their conversation. Mulciber attempted to mention business, but Draco's father was quick to tell him to wait until the food came.

"There's no need to rush, my friend," Lucius assured him. He gestured around the restaurant that was rather luxurious for a business meeting. "Our meeting will be short and I want you all to enjoy yourselves."

Mulciber and Dolohov both chuckled to themselves and Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. His father sure did keep boring company.

"Speaking of enjoyment," Mulciber said, peering over his menu to where Lucius was seated beside Draco. "I sure enjoyed myself last night."

"I'm glad to hear she met your standards this time," his father replied. Draco frowned at his menu. Had his father given one of the dancers to Mulciber for the evening? As far as Hermione had told him, the girls at _Le Blanc_ were reserved for weekends only.

"Yes, it's a shame such an opportunity is only temporary," Mulciber said. Draco didn't want to listen to this. He'd come to talk business; not listening to old men talk about girls like they were worthless. "Say, how long do you suppose you'll be punishing your girl? I'll pay for another night."

"You've already had two this week," Dolohov said beside him. Draco gripped his menu just a little tighter when Dolohov said, "Let the rest of us have a go."

"Ah, I'm afraid she's beginning to learn her lesson," his father said. Whoever he was talking about, clearly he was upset with her. Draco couldn't imagine what any of the girls at _Le Blanc_ could do to upset his father so much, but he hoped the girl was alright.

A horrid thought struck him as he remembered Blaise was still visiting Luna. If she had been caught with Blaise, would his father punish her in this way? What would happen to her if he ever found out about Blaise's visits?

"Is two weeks really enough?" Mulciber asked. Draco tried to ignore them, but Mulciber had his full attention when he said, "Surely your Golden Girl needs more discipline."

Draco snapped his menu closed, drawing the attention of all three men at the table. Hermione. They'd been talking about Hermione this whole time. He'd thought it was one of the other girls, but it had been his Hermione and he'd let them speak about her like a common whore.

"You've been selling Hermione for the past two weeks?" Draco asked his father quietly. He turned to him slowly, looking up at his father in disgust.

"She needed to be punished," his father said flippantly. He reached for his glass of wine, but Draco had his wand out a second earlier and his father's hand froze.

"Why?" he demanded. His father looked at him and Draco could see the barely controlled anger in his eyes. With Mulciber and Dolohov on the other side of the table, however, Draco was not in any danger.

"She is a whore, Draco," his father hissed, clearly trying not to cause a scene. Draco didn't care, though. He had nothing to lose if the public thought he acted improperly. He had nothing to lose when he shouted at his father that Hermione was not a whore, effectively drawing the attention of almost the entire restaurant. "Draco, do not cause a scene," his father demanded.

"Why are you punishing her?" Draco shouted. His father glared at him while Mulciber and Dolohov sipped their wine uncomfortably. Draco was unfazed. "I swear if you've laid a hand on her because I befriended her—"

"You're better than her, Draco," his father interrupted sharply. Draco fumed, but his father continued. "She's a Mudblood whore who dances at a nightclub and you are a pureblood heir. She deserves her treatment and you should learn to understand that if you are to one day inherit the—"

"I don't want to inherit your goddamn nightclubs," Draco sneered. He stuffed his wand in his pocket and stood up, downing the rest of his wine. "I don't want any part of your world, I want to destroy it."

"You'll never have the power to destroy what your name built," his father taunted. Draco didn't say anything. He turned away from his father and stormed for the exit, ignoring the way people stared at him. As long as his father was away from the nightclub, Draco could get in without detection. Even if his father had been there, it wouldn't stop him from marching into _Le Blanc_ and going straight for the dressing rooms behind the stage where he knew he would find Hermione.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to post all the rest of this story this weekend, so happy early holidays! I will have another Dramione book coming out on New Years so make sure to look for that was well as my one-shot series that will continue to update. Enjoy!

Hermione had been reading a book Blaise smuggled in when her dressing room door flew open. She jumped at the sound, scrambling to hide the book even though she knew it had already been seen. When she turned to face the intruder, already trying to explain herself, she stopped. She'd thought it was Mr. Malfoy. The blond hair had been what tipped her off to it. Instead of his father, though, Draco stood in front of her.

She stopped mid-sentence. He was fuming and Hermione knew from experience that when someone was angry, it was best to remain silent. Perhaps he wouldn't notice her if she said nothing.

A switch seemed to flip in his brain, though because a second later, he was dropping onto the bed beside her and looking at her desperately. Hermione remained frozen on her bed, unsure how to react when he reached forward and hugged her tightly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. Her eyes drifted to the door as she stayed limp in his arms. What if Mr. Malfoy came in and saw them both there? Would he really snap her wand and throw her to the mercy of Fenrir Greyback?

"You have to leave," she said, choking on her words. She didn't want him to leave, but the last two weeks had been terrible and she didn't want to imagine how much worse they would be if she was handed over to a pack of werewolves.

"No, I'm not leaving this time," he told her. She shook her head and pushed him away from her. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

"If your father sees—"

"He won't, he's on business," Draco said. Hermione paused. Draco slowly reached for her hand again and she let him take it. It was the least she could do, really. "He's away and he won't hurt you and I'm so, so sorry he ever did."

Hermione shook her head, telling him it wasn't his fault but he wasn't having it.

"I know about Mulciber," he said. She froze and he gently squeezed her hand. Her eyes moved from the door to her lap as he said, "I know he's been forcing you to sleep with strangers every night for the past two weeks and I know it's because I became your friend."

"It's really not your fault."

"It is!" Draco insisted. Hermione's eyes closed at the loud sound and Draco immediately apologised. The room was quiet for a few minutes before he said quietly, "I'm always going to think it's my fault if something happens to you."

"You didn't know," Hermione reminded him. She pulled her hand away from his so she could cup his face with both of her hands. "I didn't want you to know. I could have told you, but I didn't. I needed you to think I really didn't want you here."

"It worked," Draco grumbled. Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead against his. It was nice to have him back if only for a moment, but she'd need to convince him to leave again. This time, however, there wouldn't be any lies as he was sure to see right through them.

"You can't stay," she told him. She kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to see the sadness that was sure to reflect in his eyes. "I love it when you visit, but you have to stop."

"Hermione—"

"No," she interrupted. She pulled back to look at him before quickly looking away. "No, if you think this is bad, it'll only be worse if you keep coming back."

Draco looked like he doubted that which was fair. If Mr. Malfoy hadn't explicitly told her what would happen to her if she continued her friendship with Draco, she wouldn't have really thought things could get worse either. However, she wasn't exactly fond of the idea of telling him what would happen if they were caught again.

"I'm not leaving you here, Hermione," Draco told her. Hermione sighed and Draco rolled his eyes.

Draco pulled her to her feet and Hermione was forced to crane her neck upward if she wanted to see his face. Their chests were touching and Hermione could feel his body heat surrounding her. As he reached up to put one hand on her cheek and the other wrapped around her waist, Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"I'm taking you with me," he said. Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head, stepping out of his arms.

"You can't," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. She took another step back when Draco moved towards her. "I still have three months of my contract; I can't disappear or he'll hurt me."

"I'll fix it, Hermione," Draco promised. She shook her head, refusing to hope he could actually get her out of the nightmare she'd been trapped in for three years. "I'll figure out a way out of your contract, I promise."

"You can't promise that!" she yelled. Draco reached forward and grabbed her hand before she could evade him. She tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but he didn't let her go.

"Hermione, I promise," he repeated. She shook her head repeatedly and stared down at the ground. She refused to stomp her foot like a child.

"You can't," she replied. She kept her eyes on the ground and wiped at her face with her one free hand. It had been two and a half years since anyone else had tried to get her out of the contract and they had been unsuccessful. Hermione had been made the lead dancer as a sort of revenge and a way to taunt her for her failure to escape. After, no one else had tried to find a loophole or an escape from the endless cycle of _Le Blanc._

"Let me try," Draco said after a moment. Hermione looked up at him cautiously. "My father owns the nightclubs so I'm sure there's some way to get out of it. Just let me try."

"If you can't..." she trailed off. She'd imagine if his father found out he was trying to get her out of her contract early, she'd be shipped off without a word. If Mr. Malfoy let her hope just long enough to watch Draco fail, she wasn't sure she could handle it. The first time had been disappointing enough. To go through it all again wasn't something Hermione wanted to do.

"Just come with me and let me try," he said again. Hermione wiped away a tear before she nodded and took a small step towards him.

"If I go, you have to guarantee I won't ever come back," she said quietly. Draco nodded quickly, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Even if I can't get you out of your contract, you will never come back," Draco assured her. Hermione stared at him for several seconds before she let a small smile cross her face. Before she could fully realise what she was doing, she was pressing her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his neck. She'd allow herself to hope this one last time, but only because Draco seemed so desperate for her to.


	15. Chapter 15

It didn't take long for Hermione to gather the few things she wanted to take with her. She was already wearing a t-shirt and pyjama shorts; the only thing she really wanted to grab was the shirt he'd transfigured into a dress a while ago. Of course, she refused to leave without first saying goodbye to a couple of the girls. Draco waited patiently as she whispered the news to four other girls and hugged them quickly. When she finally turned back to follow him out of the club, she froze. Draco frowned, wondering what had made her stop, and turned around to see what she was looking at.

Lucius Malfoy stood several paces down the hall with Dolohov and Mulciber beside him.

"Fuck," Draco muttered, reaching for Hermione's hand without taking his eyes off the group.

"I told you to leave her, Draco," his father drawled. Draco stared at his father, narrowing his eyes when his hand drifted to his side. Beside him, Hermione inhaled sharply and squeezed his hand tighter.

"You know me better than to think that would actually work," Draco replied. His father frowned at him and took a few steps forward. Draco raised his wand to him, but that didn't stop him from continuing forward.

"She's signed a contract, Draco," his father said calmly, extending one hand out to them. Draco took several steps back, pushing Hermione along behind him. He threw up a shield when his father didn't stop, giving them a moment.

"I know," Draco replied. He adjusted his hold on Hermione and told her to grab a better hold of him. Clearly confused, Hermione did as he instructed. "I'm taking her anyway," Draco told his father.

Just as the shield charm broke down, Draco apparated with Hermione clutched to his side. It took a second for the nausea to wear off and when it did, Blaise was staring at them with a mouth full of bagel.

"Hey," Draco nodded at his friend. Hermione was still holding his hand tightly, but she sent a small smile at Blaise. 

"What's—What's going on?" Blaise asked, swallowing his bite of bagel. Draco glanced at Hermione then back at Blaise.

"We have a new roommate," Draco answered. He gave Blaise a look that said he'd tell him later and Blaise nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Draco led Hermione through the flat to the bedroom he occupied half of the time. He hadn't fully moved out of the Manor, but he had partially moved in with Blaise. They were renting a flat close to the center of wizarding London and at times Draco didn't want to be found at the Manor, he would stay with Blaise. More and more frequently, he could be found at the flat rather than the Manor.

"You'll stay here," Draco told her, opening the door of his room. A large king bed sat in the center with white sheets and a dark green comforter. Just like he'd left it, the bed was perfectly made. His room was spotless as always and the window was cracked to prevent it from smelling over time.

"This is your room," Hermione said. She looked up at him after looking around the room and he nodded.

"I stay here part-time and with my parents the rest of the time," he explained. She seemed incredibly uncomfortable staring at the bed, so Draco pressed a kiss to her cheek before telling her, "I'll be staying in Blaise's room, so you'll have the room to yourself."

"I don't want to invade your room, Draco," she immediately objected. Draco insisted, refusing to let her stay anywhere else.

"It's really more to reassure me you're alright," Draco said in an attempt to stop her objections. It worked. She paused and Draco squeezed her hand. "If I know you're here, I know you're okay. Blaise and I have surrounded this place with so many wards, no one can get in without our permission."

Hermione thought about it for a second then nodded once.

"As long as you're really okay with it," she said quietly. Draco smiled and assured her once again that is was not a problem. 

"I'm going to go talk to Blaise," he told her. He pointed out the books in his nightstand and watched as her face lit up and she hurried over to look through them. Once he was certain she was content, he closed the door partway behind him then went to find Blaise.

As he'd expected, Blaise was finishing up his bagel in the kitchen. He didn't need to say anything for Draco to know he already knew what was going on. It didn't take Draco long either to figure out Blaise had known what Hermione was going through. At the realisation Blaise had kept it secret, Draco frowned. 

"How'd you know?" he asked. Blaise told him about his visit to _Le Blanc_ earlier and what he'd overheard while hiding from Lucius. "Why didn't you tell me then?"

"I told you," Blaise snapped back, making Draco roll his eyes. "I promised not to. What help would it have done to tell you anyway?"

Draco could think of at least a couple of reasons why it would have been better, but most of them weren't particularly time-related. While he would have liked to have known earlier, Blaise had really only known a day before him which wouldn't have changed much. Still, knowing he could have stepped in earlier killed him a little inside.

"She's staying with us now," Draco told him. Blaise just looked at him. "She's taking my room, so we'll have to add a room."

"I'm not against her staying, Draco," Blaise said. Draco knew he didn't need to sell Blaise on the idea of letting Hermione stay, but he still felt obligated to talk to him about it. After all, she would be staying in the same house as him for an indefinite amount of time. If Blaise didn't like the idea, Draco wanted him to feel like he could say so.

"You can bring Luna," Draco told him. Blaise sighed and opened the fridge, but Draco wasn't done. "If you want. Just, to be fair, you know?"

"I'm okay with Hermione staying, Draco," Blaise repeated. He closed the fridge and looked at Draco to say, "Now please, let me drink my energy drink in peace."

As if to emphasize his point, Blaise popped open the lid of a soda and Draco rolled his eyes. He walked out of the room before Blaise could tell him it was fine again and went to find Hermione. He wasn't terribly surprised to discover she was sitting on his bed, exactly how he'd left her a few minutes earlier.

"You can look around, you know," Draco told her. Hermione looked up quickly at the sound of his voice and smiled. She didn't smile fast enough to hide the panic that had been there a second earlier, but Draco chose to ignore it and smile instead.

"I guess I'm just letting it all sink in," she replied.

Draco joined her on the bed, sitting beside her silently. It was silent for a while and just before Draco turned to ask her if she wanted a tour of the apartment, Blaise began singing from the living room. He rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione to apologise on Blaise's behalf, but she seemed on the verge of laughing if her wide grin was anything to go by.

"Does he sing like this often?" she asked, a giggle escaping her as she spoke. Draco's smile widened and he looked at the door, imaging just what they would see if they were to poke their heads around the corner.

"Unfortunately, yes," he told her. He leaned closer as if telling her a secret and said, "It's best when he dances along as well."

A couple more giggles escaped Hermione before Draco pulled her to her feet and quietly escorted her to where she could perfectly see Blaise dancing and singing in the living room without him seeing them. She was clearly trying very hard not to laugh and give them both away, but when Blaise's voice cracked and he dropped to his knees dramatically, she couldn't help it. Surprisingly, Blaise didn't seem to mind. He just turned and winked at her before jumping back to his feet and continuing his little song and dance much to Hermione's delight.


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione found that—unsurprisingly—living with Blaise and Draco was much better than living at _Le Blanc_. She'd only spent two days in their apartment and already she couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave. Blaise had been a godsend when she woke up in a panic, not immediately recognising her surroundings and running into his room by mistake. Of course, upon seeing him she was reminded of where she was and apologised profusely. Blaise walked with her into the living room and they each drank an entire glass of water on the sofa before returning to their rooms. In the morning, the only comment Blaise made about her freak out that night was to ask if she'd slept alright.

"Draco's off to go persuade the Lord of Darkness to leave you alone," Blaise told her as he joined her at the table for breakfast. Hermione looked up from her plate of eggs just in time to see Blaise shovel an entire forkful into his mouth. "He did give me a lecture on what to not say and how to play nice, but I figured we could forgo all his advice and get ice cream instead. What's your favourite flavour?"

"Pecan," Hermione answered without hesitation. She hadn't had ice cream since before her start at _Le Blanc_ , but she did remember her favourite flavour.

Blaise grinned at her and rather than tease her about such a weird flavour, he asked why that was her favourite. Hermione wasn't sure why it was her favourite, but she did know it used to be her dad's favourite before he passed away and she was sure that contributed to it.

"My dad hates ice cream," Blaise told her. Hermione frowned and he shrugged. "He thinks it's a childish treat, so I eat it every time I see him."

Hermione laughed at that as Blaise grabbed both of their breakfast plates and put them in the sink. A wave of his wand had the dishes cleaning themselves and Hermione's laughter died away. Now that she wasn't stuck at _Le Blanc_ , she should really get herself a new wand. The only problem with that was she didn't have any money for it, wizard or muggle.

"Hey, Draco told me to get you some new clothes, so go change into whatever else you have," Blaise told her. Hermione looked down at her long t-shirt and pyjama pants and frowned. The only other thing she had was the dress Draco had transfigured for her, but she supposed that would do. The only other problem, then, would be the lack of money.

"I don't want to use your money, Blaise," she said. Blaise rolled his eyes and procured a bag that jingled a little when he shook it.

"You won't," he replied. He tossed her the bag and she opened it to peek inside. "It's Draco's. Says he took it from his father's vaults as part of the money you should have received working at _Le Blanc_ , but I think he just wanted to steal from his father a bit."

Hermione closed the bag, not having the time to count what she knew had to be at least one hundred galleons. At Blaise's wave, she hurried back to Draco's room and changed into the one dress she had. When she came back out to join Blaise, he was holding an extra cloak for her and another bag of galleons.

"It's chilly out," he told her. She nodded and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, noticing just how much longer it was on her. Blaise quickly hemmed it with his wand and then offered her his hand so they could apparate.

She hesitated for a moment and looked up at him.

"I haven't apparated in years," she explained. Blaise smiled kindly at her.

"Well it hasn't changed," he teased. She rolled her eyes and hesitantly took Blaise's hand. "Other than feeling like you're spinning around a million times, you should be fine."

"I'll try not to puke on you then," she replied. Blaise grinned and once he had a firm hold on her, they apparated into Diagon Alley.

It took Hermione a minute or two to adjust after the abrupt landing, but Blaise seemed content to just stand by her and comment on a few people who passed by. After a particularly strange comment about a wizard's purple cloak, Hermione was perfectly fine to walk across the street where Fortescue's Ice Cream was located.

"I don't imagine we should wait until after shopping to have ice cream," Hermione said as they stood in line.

"We can do both," Blaise told her. Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't object. Surely there was no problem in having ice cream twice on the same day. At least, she didn't see the problem with it. She didn't really have time to argue with him anyway because it was then that they were being served and Hermione was handed a large, two-scoop ice cream cone with pecan ice cream.

"Holy flobberworms," Hermione muttered, staring at the huge mass of ice cream in front of her.

"Thanks, Florean!" Blaise said, handing the galleons over the counter and licking his own ice cream cone. "We'll be back later!"

"Of course," Florean grinned. He waved them outside and Hermione found a nice sunny place for them to sit in the cool morning air.

There wasn't much talking as they both hurried to eat their ice cream and by the time Hermione finished, she was shaking from the cold. Clearly, ice cream on a cold morning wasn't the best idea, but she did not at all regret it.

As soon as Blaise had finished his ice cream as well, the two set off down the streets and Hermione found herself looking in all the shop windows. Many of the stores down Diagon Alley were the same as when she'd been in school, but it had been so long since she'd been allowed to roam the streets and just enjoy herself, she couldn't stop from looking into every window.

Blaise, thankfully, didn't seem to care it was taking twice as long to walk down the streets than usual, and by the time they actually came across the shop they wanted, it had warmed up.

"I swear I'll be fast," Hermione promised. While Blaise didn't look too uncomfortable to be in the ladies section of the clothing shop, any other boy she'd gone shopping with hadn't enjoyed it. When Blaise held up a matching bra and panties set, however, she figured he rather enjoyed being dragged around the ladies section.

It took over an hour for Hermione to find just what she wanted that wouldn't exceed one hundred galleons. As she carried one magically enhanced shopping bag out of the store and a half-full bag of galleons, however, she wondered just how much money Draco had given her. Sure, she'd worked at _Le Blanc_ for over three years, but Draco really shouldn't have given her over a hundred galleons.

"Say, I could go for some more ice cream," Blaise announced as they passed Fortescue's once again. Hermione smiled at him and followed him into the shop where she tried two different flavours on a double scoop cone.

When they finished their second round of ice cream, they went down a quieter street in Diagon Alley and Hermione found a few more things to wear. As they exited that shop, Blaise's stomach growled loudly and they both agreed to find a place for lunch before visiting Ollivander's.


	17. Chapter 17

Draco returned to the flat where Blaise and Hermione were two days later. He hadn't meant to be gone more than just one day, but he hadn't wanted to return at such a late hour in a horrible mood, so he'd spent the evening with a work friend. Harry had been confused, but more than willing to let him spend the night in his flat as Ron _—_ Harry's roommate and another of Draco's coworkers _—_ had been at his family's home. In the morning, Draco had made them both breakfast as a thank you then left promptly to continue trying to force his father's hand.

When finally, two days and many headaches later he had gotten what he wanted, Draco returned to his and Blaise's flat. Much to his surprise, he found Hermione in the kitchen talking rapidly about her mother and Blaise cleaning what looked like dirty cooking utensils. The smell coming from the oven combined with the smear of flour on Hermione's cheek made him smile despite the long few days he'd had.

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen to hug him enthusiastically. Draco smiled and hugged her back, leaving one arm draped around her shoulders as they both returned to the kitchen.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Blaise demanded. While Draco wasn't surprised by Blaise's question, he didn't appreciate the lack of tact. At the very least, the git should have tried to make it sound nicer.

"I convinced my father to let Hermione free of her contract three months early," Draco announced. Beside him, Hermione stilled and looked up at him. Blaise looked mildly shocked and impressed, but Draco was turning to look at Hermione before he could see Blaise's entire reaction. "No strings attached," he told her.

"That's impossible," Hermione said quietly. Of course it was, but Draco wasn't about to tell her that he'd had to pay his father the entire amount Hermione had made last year during the same three months.

"It wasn't a walk in the park," Draco said, brushing a stray curl behind her ear, "But I think my mother helped convince him and as of today, you are no longer tied to _Le Blanc_."

Hermione let out a small shriek. Before Draco could ask what was wrong, she was hugging him even tighter than before. Once he processed that she wasn't upset, but happy, he wrapped his arms around her as well. Across the kitchen, he locked eyes with Blaise and knew he'd be explaining just what strings were attached when it came to Hermione's early release, but the oven went off and Hermione was soon distracting them both as she pulled a delicious smelling and looking meat pie from the oven.

* * *

Blaise wasn't as angry with Draco as he'd expected. In fact, Blaise seemed curious enough about just what Draco's father had demanded in return for Hermione's release, Draco couldn't help himself from asking what Blaise was planning on doing. He wasn't surprised when the answer had to do with getting Luna away from _Le Blanc_ and Draco was happy to report that since she wasn't one of Lucius's most prized dancers, it would likely be easier.

"I don't mean that in a rude way—"

"No, I'm glad that's the case, actually," Blaise interrupted. It made it easier to bargain for her release, but it also meant she wasn't on the frontline for Lucius's wrath and they both knew how quickly Draco's father could lose his temper.

There was a long pause before Draco quietly said, "30,000 galleons."

Blaise looked at him, momentarily confused before the realisation hit him. Draco nodded with a frown.

"That's how much she would have made for him in three months," Draco muttered. Blaise let out a breath and Draco glared at the ground in front of him. "I gave him the money, of course, but 5,000 galleons every month will drain from his bank account until I feel like he's paid back every cent Hermione should have made."

Draco was trying hard not to get angry again, but just the thought of how much his father made off of Hermione alone had him furious once more. It wasn't business like his father always said it was, it was the exploitation of innocent girls. If Draco hadn't wanted to be involved before, he definitely didn't want to now. Suddenly he had a new drive for following a career and continuing his training in magical law enforcement. He'd already been aiming to be an Auror, but now he had even better reasons for doing so. With the law behind him and friends in the Ministry, one day Draco would shut down all of his father's clubs and clubs that treated their dancers similarly.

"In other news," Blaise said, pulling Draco out of his thoughts and back to the present. "You might want to check on Hermione."

"Why? What happened?"

He'd only been gone for two days, how could something have happened to her already? She'd seemed perfectly fine earlier that evening.

"Nothing," Blaise shrugged. Draco calmed down immediately. "She wakes up in the middle of the night panicked, though."

Draco sighed. He should have known Hermione wouldn't be immediately relaxed in a totally new environment, but he didn't like thinking she was scared to be in the flat. Even if his room was right next door and Blaise was just across the hall, it would clearly be a good idea to make sure she was alright each night and maybe offer to stay with her. That wouldn't be too weird, right? They had a something going on. Sure, they weren't officially together or anything, but he had saved her from his father's continued abuse at _Le Blanc_ and they'd shared a kiss or two. Maybe he should also check with her on that.

"I'll go make sure she's alright," Draco said. Blaise nodded and Draco left the living room.

He knocked on his old bedroom door before slowly opening it when Hermione told him to come in. When he stepped into the room, however, rather than seeing Hermione lying in her bed asleep like she said she'd do almost an hour ago, he found her sitting upright and murmuring spells under her breath.

"How's your new wand?" Draco asked, smiling at her when she looked up from whatever she been doing. 

"It's wonderful," Hermione answered. She set it down in her lap and Draco took that as a sign he could join her on the bed. 

He'd already known she was brilliant when it came to magic, but seeing how good she was with it when she had a wand was still a bit of a shock. Clearly, she had been at the top of her class while in school, and knowing she'd been deprived of that for years made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Remember everything from school?" he teased. Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled and nodded. She'd gone through all the spells she could do inside her room already, she told him, and he wasn't surprised at all. Aside from almost turning her pillow into an aardvark instead of an anteater, things had gone smoothly.

"I'd love to get my hands on a cauldron just so I can try it again," Hermione said. Draco had an old cauldron at the Manor he could probably take for her, so he promised he'd have it sent sometime soon along with some ingredients from his own potions lab.

"Aside from brushing up on your magic," Draco said, watching a very small anteater poke around the room, "What do you planning on doing now that you're out?"

"I want to be a healer," Hermione answered without hesitation. She flicked her wand at the anteater and it turned back into a pillow. "I was partway through the training when I had to quit and I've always enjoyed the magic involved. I think now, though, if I was to become a healer, I'd want to specialise in trauma, you know? The people that have been through something horrible and don't think they'll make it. I want to help them."

Draco wasn't terribly surprised by her answer. While he'd originally expected her to say something in the Ministry or teaching given her skills in magic, her reasons for wanting to be a healer made sense and he couldn't see her doing anything else now.

"Well, I suppose you'll be wanting to register for the next training," Draco said. Hermione nodded and Draco offered to take her to St. Mungos in the morning. Not because she couldn't get around on her own, but because he had the day off from training and he wanted to introduce her to some of his friends. 

"Will Blaise be joining too?" Hermione asked, "He seems to want ice cream at least twice when shopping."

Draco laughed and shook his head.

"No, Blaise has work in the morning," he told her. She grinned and the conversation changed from all they should get done while in Diagon Alley to who could perform better magic. After a particularly rough bout where they accidentally trapped a bogart in the desk and couldn't get it out, they just vanished the entire thing and decided they were done with magic for the night. A second later, Blaise filed an official noise complaint on a napkin he slid under the door and they set up muffling charms before continuing their conversation even later into the night.


	18. Epilogue: A Few Years Later

Hermione arrived home early that afternoon. St. Mungos had been slower than usual and she'd been feeling a bit under the weather, so she'd been let home early. Of course, Draco wouldn't be returning for at least two hours, so rather than worry about making food as soon as she got home, she found her way to their bedroom and laid down for a quick nap. She'd had every intention of setting an alarm and being up in an hour, but apparently she'd forgotten to do so because she was awoken by Draco pressing his lips to hers and sitting on the bed beside her. 

She muttered a groggy hello and he smiled.

"Did you get sent home early?" he asked. She nodded, brushing her hair out of her face then reaching for his hand. "Was it slow?"

Hermione nodded again as Draco pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. He frowned slightly but didn't say anything.

"Harry's coming over tonight," he reminded her. Hermione smiled and slowly sat up. Despite being groggy from her nap, she did feel better than she had when she was sent home. "If you're not feeling well, we can reschedule."

"No, I'm feeling better," Hermione told him. There was no use telling him she hadn't been feeling sick when he knew better. She did feel better though, she insisted, and a few seconds later she was getting out of bed to prove it.

As it was, Hermione had been looking forward to tonight's dinner for several days. Harry and Ron were friends from Hogwarts and it hadn't been until after Draco had taken her away from _Le Blanc_ that she'd been able to reconnect. Finding out Harry and Draco were good friends had been just another plus and even though Ron wasn't particularly Draco's biggest fan, they managed to get along fine. In the past couple of years since reconnecting with her friends, they'd had dinner together every Tuesday night. Since Harry and Draco had been busy working a case on Tuesday, they'd pushed that week's dinner to Friday night. Hermione had already heard the story of the bust from Draco last night, but Harry had a different role and she was anxious to hear his part of the story.

"Ron said he might be a little late," Draco said as they started making dinner. "He's finishing up the last document on his Avery case and wasn't sure how long it may take."

"It's crazy to think they're almost all shut down," Hermione said, passing Draco two boxes of pasta to start boiling. Pasta was one of Ron's favourite meals and an easy one at that. 

"All that's left is the trial and sentencing," Draco told her. Hermione couldn't help but smile.

Only a few years ago, the wizarding world had had several brothels disguised as clubs and now they were all crumbling. Draco had been the driving force behind coming up with new laws in order to protect those who worked in that area, effectively shutting down many unfair and now illegal clubs. As the first new law had been to set a minimum wage for all sex workers and making it illegal to take a witch or wizard's wand, many clubs had been shut down. _Le Blanc_ had been Draco's first target, but one of the last ones to be shut down given its popularity and Lucius Malfoy's ability to evade the Aurors. With persistence and Hermione, Luna, and a few other girls that had been rescued from _Le Blanc_ , the place had been shut down as well as all the other Malfoy clubs.

"You don't have to testify against your father," Hermione said, pausing her work to look up at Draco. "I know you weren't close, but he's still your father."

Draco turned the stove to low so as not to overcook the pasta and turned to face Hermione. He took a step towards her and reached up to cup her face with one hand as he smiled.

"He treated you like shit, Hermione," he said quietly. Hermione wiped her hands on a nearby towel and laced her fingers with his. "He treated all those girls like shit. If I can help hold him responsible, I will. It doesn't matter that he's my father and honestly, he hasn't been a very good one for as long as I can remember."

Hermione reached up and pressed her lips to his shortly. While she'd worked to forget what had happened to her at _Le Blanc_ , Draco had focused on it as his driving force. Whenever they visited his parents for Sunday brunch or his father was mentioned in conversation, it was Draco who would get tense and reach for her hand. For a while, Hermione had tried to tell him it didn't matter anymore and he should put it behind them, but eventually, she realised he was so desperate to remember it in an attempt to prevent himself from ever becoming like his father had.

"You'll never be like him, Draco," she murmured. He looked away briefly and Hermione dragged his attention back to her. "You've dismantled dozens of brothels and clubs in as many years as he established them."

Draco just smiled and pulled her to his chest tightly. Even if he couldn't see her, Hermione grinned to herself and hugged him back tightly. They stayed like that until the rattling of the pot lid alerted them to the boiling pasta and Draco hastily pulled away to turn off the stove. Hermione returned to making the pasta sauce and soon after, Harry and Ginny were knocking on their door and loudly announcing they'd brought cake.

"I know Blaise doesn't like vanilla," Ginny said, placing the cake on the counter and turning to Hermione, "So it's chocolate with vanilla frosting."

"I'm sure he'll live," Hermione smiled. Blaise, of course, chose that moment to arrive and proceeded to praise Ginny for her wonderful ability to make perfect chocolate cake before hugging Hermione or saying hello to anyone else.

Five minutes after Blaise and Luna had arrived, Ron was walking into the apartment with a tired grin and happily announcing the Avery case had been closed and all that remained was the sentencing. He also procured a large jug of butterbeer and a smaller jug of firewhiskey which was met with loud cheers all around.

Once they had all filled a cup with their desired drink, they all turned to Draco who had raised his glass for the first toast. With a grin, he wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and looked around at their friends.

"May the world be rid of all pimps and brothels!" he declared. Another loud cheer went around the flat followed by everyone taking a drink. As they went around the room, each toasting to something similar, the room got warmer and the butterbeer and firewhiskey went down. By the time they had all finished their toasts, the pasta was getting cold and they were nearly out of alcohol, but it didn't matter when Harry and Ginny announced their engagement and the meal went entirely ignored.

**The End**


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